#i forgot that that police report file just found her. god

[carefulfears]

thinking about scully sitting on the floor of mulder’s apartment just holding him as he wept after his mother’s death and after she told him through tears that it’s time to stop. it’s time to stop looking for his sister.

and how she had already told him that once, seven years earlier, a month into their partnership, when she chased him out of a police station and told him to stop running after his sister because it won’t bring her back.

she called after him to just stop, because she’s the scientist, and that’s the logical conclusion that she had reached.

except later that night, he told her why he does it. that he’s been closing his eyes and walking into that room, thinking maybe, when he opens them, his sister will be there, since he was 12 years old. “every day” of his life.

and she never told him to stop again.

until seven years later, when she rocked him on the floor, and then the next day was asked “why do you want to bring all this back up now?” and answered, “someone owes it to mulder.”

so she started looking. she reopened files, she tracked down records, she went to his mother’s house to dig through the trash. she confronted CSM about what he knew, she flew to california, she held hands and prayed.

she looked at mulder and said “it hurts me to tell you this” and stayed steady in the truth anyway. she listened to him read to her about a 14-year-old girl’s pain, held his hand and told him to get some sleep. she stayed up, kept looking, and found it. “i got it, mulder. i couldn’t believe it when i saw it. it was like it was looking for me.”

the police report from when samantha ran away.

she read the hospital records, went to the home of the nurse who signed the intake report, asked him if he wanted her to go herself.

she left him by the car and walked up and knocked, asked about a patient in 1979. she listened as the nurse described how “you couldn’t forget her or how frightened she was. scared for her sweet life.” and the man who came for her, who wouldn’t put out his cigarette.

earlier the day before, she had been told to just stop. “word of advice, me to you: let it be. you know, there’s some wounds that are just too painful ever to be reopened.”

and she had responded, “this particular wound has never healed. and mulder deserves closure.”

after seven years, she knows now, that you can’t just stop chasing. she knows how heavy grief is, and she‘s seen the effects of carrying it alone. of walking into the worst night of your life every day, eyes closed, hopeful.

you can’t just stop, and you can’t really have closure, but you can help someone carry it.

and ultimately, that’s what made this the end of the road. sometimes the heaviest burden of grief is feeling that pain is all there is left of someone, and that alleviating it would be to abandon them.

scully’s right, this wound has never closed, but there’s freedom in shared remembrance and shared dedication. she doesn’t ask him to stop until he’s ready to know the truth, and she’s willing to find it. she doesn’t ask him to rest until it’s safe for him to, because it’s not forgetting samantha. she knows and she remembers.

[sykesandskittles]

CHAPTER 4

Harlow

Sorry. Going to sleep. Talk tomorrow.

I blink down at the text. It’s weirdly abrupt for her, but it’s late, and honestly, I’m just relieved she’s alive and back in her room. I haven’t texted her about what happened earlier, because, frankly, I’m not in the best mental space to type it all out. I’ll tell her in person tomorrow when I see her.

As soon as I got back to my room, though, I did have a text from Noah.

Are you ok?

I just ignored it and then blocked his number immediately. It just goes to show how right my first instincts about him were—he’s fucking trouble, and I don’t want anything to do with his twisted world.

I want to stay as far away from Noah Sabastian as humanly possible.

The next morning, on my way to class, I stop by Talia 's door. It’s locked, and my gentle knocks go unanswered, so I assume she’s just sleeping. She was out late, and she’s never been a morning person, so I decide to try back after lunch.

Class is a complete bore, and I’m barely paying attention—thinking about everything that happened last night. What I did wrong, what I could have done differently…

But, honestly, none of what happened was my fault, and people like Tyler shouldn’t be allowed to walk freely on campus—which is why, after class is over, I walk right over to the campus security office.

When I walk in, I address the first security person I see--a woman, around forty, sitting behind a desk, wearing a black security uniform. “Good morning. How can I help you?”

“I was assaulted last night,” I say abruptly. I’m not sugarcoating anything. That fucker needs to pay for what he did. The only thing I deliberately leave out is any mention of Noah. God only knows why, but he was just defending me, and I don’t want to get him in trouble for that.

The woman’s gaze falls to the bruises on my arm, and her expression turns immediately to concern. She pulls me into a room, and gets my full account of what happened last night, then calls the police.

While we’re waiting for them to arrive, she shakes her head. “Must have been a full moon last night or something.”

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Security found a sophomore last night, nearly beaten to death on the edge of campus. Took him to the hospital, and it looks like he’ll pull through, but–” she slows out a breath “–he’s going to have a long road ahead.” Her gaze shifts to me. “You don’t know anything about that, do you?”

I shake my head, taken aback by her question. Damn. I knew Noah had kicked the guy’s ass, but I had no idea how badly. Though, truthfully, I don’t even know if it’s the same guy we’re talking about here. “I—I don’t know. I can’t even tell you who attacked me–only that his first name is Tyler.”

She nods, and pushes off the desk, then scribbles the description down on a piece of paper.

When the police come, I file a full report, and they take photos of my injuries, then vow to look into it. They were pretty horrified, as was campus security, so I have confidence they’ll do their best to investigate the incident.

“In the meantime, don’t walk anywhere by yourself at night,” the police officer says. “And we’ll be in touch when we know more.”

I nod. “Okay, thank you.”

As I walk out of the campus security office, I feel a weight being lifted. It felt good to get all of that off my chest, and know I did my part, so hopefully Tyler can’t do something like that again to anyone else.

I missed my second class, so I head straight to my third. It’s still early— I have about fifteen minutes until I can sneak in and grab my usual seat at the back of the classroom, so I just wait outside in the hallway. I’m staring down at my phone to check if Talia texted me this morning when I hear a familiar baritone.

“Hello, Little Rabbit.”

My head snaps up to see Noah walking toward me.

Fuck.

I push out a breath. “I’m not interested. Especially after what happened last night. You can just stay the fuck away from me.”

He holds up my stun gun and hands it to me. “You forgot this.” I glare at him. “Do you hear me at all when I speak?”

He leans against the wall, all casual self-assurance. I saw this guy nearly beat someone to death last night, and now, here he is, standing in front of me like nothing happened. Though I notice his knuckles are raw and red, so I guess he’s human after all.

“I thought I made myself clear last night,” he says. “—I chose you. You’re mine. That’s it. There’s nothing either of us can do about that now.”

I hold my binder against my chest protectively. It’s a flimsy barrier, but it’s something. “So un-choose me, then. There were plenty of girls begging to be chosen last night. Pick one of them.”

He shakes his head. “Doesn’t work that way, Little Rabbit.”

I pull a face, like what the fuck? “I thought you were, like…the most powerful guy on campus or something? Just tell everyone you saw me in the light of day and changed your mind.”

He laughs under his breath, just a puff of air, and his gaze flicks over me. His eyes linger on my face for a fraction too long. “They’d never believe that. ”

I pause. Was that a compliment? My cheeks flush under his scrutiny, but I force my features to remain neutral–as much as possible.

“Besides, there’s something you need to learn about ExU,” he says. “Here, we thrive on duty and tradition. You were–”

“I know, I know,” I interrupt. He’s like a broken record. “Chosen. Jesus. That fucking ceremony should come with a consent waiver. I had no idea what I was signing up for when I showed up at that house last night.”

He just shrugs, and I can practically hear his thoughts, sounds like a you problem.

“I went to security this morning,” I say, changing the subject. “and they said some guy was found beaten on the edge of campus. He’s int he hospital. Was that Tyler?”

He shrugs again. “Could be anyone. But, wherever that cunt Tyler is, he won’t be returning to ExU. The paperwork to have him expelled is being approved as we speak.”

My eyes go wide. Does he have that much power? He can just get someone kicked out of school without an investigation or anything? Damn. That’s brutal. Tyler deserves it, but still…

He must read the direction of my thoughts because he adds, “He knew better than to fuck with what's mine.”

I decide to ignore the “what’s mine” comment, because I know I’m not shifting his view on that—not immediately, anyway. “Well, I wish I’d known ExU is such a dangerous place. I would have picked another University.”

“It’s not dangerous if you play by the rules, Little Rabbit,” he says, pushing off the wall. “Keep your phone close. I’ll text you later.”

As he turns to walk away, I call after him, “Please don’t…text…me…” But he just continues to walk, like he’s not listening.

Goddamn.

Somehow I’ve gotten myself entangled with Noah Sabastian

. It’s a fucking entanglement

——

THE REST of the day passes in a blur, and still no text from Talia . It’s mid- day by the time I catch up with her. I’m just heading back to my room when I stop by and knock on her door. She answers, and the second I see her, I breathe a sigh of relief.

“Goddamn, girl. You had me so stressed,” I say, pushing my way into her room. Her roommate is gone, thank goodness, so we have the small space to ourselves. I let my backpack fall to the floor, and I plop down on her bed. “Where the hell have you been?”

Talia shuts the door and comes to sit on the bed next to me. I immediately notice she’s not her usual bubbly self. “I was out late, and I decided to sleep in.”

I lean against her pillows. “Well, now that I know you’re okay, I’m pissed at you for ghosting me last night. I was waiting for you on the porch of that house when I was attacked by some asshole.”

“Attacked? ”

“Yeah, if Noah hadn’t jumped in, I don’t know…”

Tears well up in Talia 's eyes. “Oh, my God. I’m so sorry, Harlow . I would have been there, really, but I was…kinda caught up in my own thing. Are you okay?”

Her tone is…off. I’ve known Talia long enough to know when something is wrong, and my gut is telling me something is very, very wrong. When she said “my own thing” her voice caught on the words, like she was trying not to cry. I sit up, now on full alert. “What happened last night?”

She just shakes her head and looks down at her hands. “Nothing. It’s nothing. I’m just glad we’re both okay.”

I grab her wrist and inspect her for any bruises. There’s nothing. “What happened, Talia ? You can tell me.”

When she looks up at me, she smiles, pulling her wrist out of my grip. The smile is forced, and I can tell she’s trying to put on a brave face. “Nothing really happened. I’m just being stupid. Forget about it. I guess no more creepy secret society ceremonies for us, right?” She laughs a little.

I lean back against the pillows. “I hope not, but I don’t know. That Noah guy insists I belong to him now, so who knows what he’s going to make me do.”

Talia nods, but I can tell she isn’t really paying attention. She looks tired. Maybe that’s why she’s acting so unlike herself.

I stand up. “Why don’t you get some more sleep?”

She shimmies up into the spot on her bed that I just vacated. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’ll text you in a bit. Be sure to answer.” She closes her eyes. “Mmm-hm.”

Grabbing my bag, I duck out of the room, unsettled by that entire interaction. Talia is usually an open book. A very bubbly open book, and it’s not like her to be so secretive. It’s weird. And I decide I’m going to get to the bottom of whatever happened last night. But first, she needs sleep. It might help her feel like herself again.

I immediately dart over to my English class. English has never been my strongest subject, but it’s one of those annoying required classes. When I’d enrolled, I’d decided to get all those pesky classes out of the way first, so I wouldn’t have to worry about them later.

This class is packed, but I manage to find a seat way up in the nosebleed section, which, unfortunately, means I need to snake past about a dozen

people.

We’re about halfway through class when the girl next to me leans over, and whispers to me. “Hey, you’re the one dating Noah Sabastian , right?”

I glance over, and I’m actually taken aback by her beauty. Long blond wavy hair, wide blue eyes, and a pair of outy pink lips that make her look younger than I’m sure she is. But the worst part, she’s beautiful without even trying. Minimal makeup, shorts, a tank top, and flip-flops. And she smells like the beach somehow.

“Um, I…” I’m technically dating Noah, according to him, I guess. But I don’t exactly want that information spreading–even though it sounds like it already has.

I don’t know what to say, so I just side-step the question altogether. “I’m Harlow .”

“Yeah, I know. You’re fucking royalty around here.” She smacks her gum and smiles. “I’m Skye.”

“Nice to meet you,” I say with an answering smile.

Royalty? How? I’ve been on campus for less than a week. Weird.

She leans in, and whispers, “Hey, do you think you could take notes for me? I gotta run.”

“Uh, sure.” I’m taking notes anyway, so why not ?

“Cool, thanks. Give me your phone and I’ll add my contact info.” I hand her my phone, and she types in her information quickly.

“Thanks, I just sent a text to my number, so I have your info. I’ll text you later.” She hands my phone back while she moves to get up, then seems to remember something and turns back to me. “Hey, our sorority is having a party tonight. You wanna come?”

Oh, God. Another party.

But it might be good for Talia to get out for a minute. Maybe it’ll cheer her up, and we’ll make sure to stay together this time.

“Okay. Thanks. Can I bring a friend?”

Skye’s face brightens. “Yeah, sure. I’ll text you the info.” “Great.”

And with that she’s gone, sneaking through the back door of the classroom.

Well. That was…nice. I guess I have a new friend now, which makes me smile to myself. I was a little worried I wouldn’t fit in at ExU. I have

fantasies about blending into the woodwork here, but Talia was right last night. I can’t spend my entire college experience in my dorm room.

After class, I head over to the coffee shop. I’m starving, but I have to make my scholarship money stretch, so cafe food isn’t an option. But, at this point, coffee is essential to life, so I decide to splurge on a small cup of plain drip coffee.

I’m in line when I feel a presence beside me. I glance over and see Noah standing next to me, a cheeky smile on his beautiful face.

“My God. What are you doing here?” I’m sure I have disgust written all over my face, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

He snakes an arm around my waist and tugs me close to him. Then he buries his face in my hair, and talks in a low tone. “Play along.” Pulling back, he smiles down at me. “My next class isn’t for an hour. I thought we could have coffee together.”

I just push out a breath and try to calm my racing heart. I hate my reaction to him. I can’t help feeling like every other girl at ExU, fawning over the campus god. It’s so unbelievably pathetic. But tell that to my two beaded nipples, poised and ready to cut fucking glass.

When we get up to the register, I order my drink, and then he proceeds to order practically every food item on the menu. I reach into my pocket to pay for my drink, but Noah waves me off, handing the cashier his debit card.

Turns out it’s peak coffee o’clock, so all the tables are taken. Noah isn’t deterred in the least. He walks toward one of the tables, and before he can even say anything, the three people sitting there immediately get up and offer it to us—even wiping it down with a napkin first.

What the fuck?

I take the chair closest to the wall. Having the wall behind me makes me feel less vulnerable, somehow. Noah sits in the chair across from me, leaning back comfortably, like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

“I’m beginning to think I’ve stepped into an alternate universe,” I say with a sigh.

“Where’s your necklace?” Noah asks, ignoring my statement.

My hand flies to my throat, to the necklace that isn’t there. After putting in my purse last night, I hadn’t touched it. “It’s up in my room,” I answer .

He doesn’t look pleased by my answer–his dark brows drawn together in annoyance—but thankfully, he doesn’t push the issue. Maybe he knows

I’ll argue, and he doesn’t want me making a scene in front of everyone. Appearances seem to be everything here in this alternate universe.

Someone comes over with our coffee and a tray full of food—fruit, pastries, croissants, muffins, and slices of lemon poppyseed coffee cake. I eye a couple of the pastries, and my stomach growls, but I deliberately don’t reach for anything.

Noah watches me. “Eat something.”

I take a sip of my coffee, my eyes never leaving his. “No, thanks. I’m good.”

He sits back deeper in his chair, his jaw working. He doesn’t like hearing the word no and I file that away in my brain. If Noah thinks I’m going to be one of those girls at the Prefrence Ceremony, throwing myself at him, then he's fucked in the head. I don’t roll like that, and it’s probably better for both of us in the long run if he figures that out now.

“Harlow ,” he says slowly. I can hear the frustration in his tone. “You need to eat.”

I lift my chin. “What if I’m not hungry?”

There’s something about accepting food from this guy that feels, I don’t know…intimate, I guess. I’m not sure why I feel that way. Maybe it’s a remnant from my childhood. We never had much food in the house. Before my mom ditched me for a cult in Florida, she raised me as a single parent, and there were times when the gulf between paychecks was so wide that we had to depend on food banks.

So, yeah, seeing all this food on the table just feels indulgent. I’m dying to sink my teeth into the chocolate croissant in front of me, but my pride won’t allow me to reach out and take it. So instead, I just take another sip of my coffee.

“I know you’re hungry,” he replies with a bored tone. “I can hear your stomach growling from here.”

I swallow back the embarrassment that suddenly rises in my throat. Damn. He can hear my stomach growling? Could he be lying? Part of me wonders if he’s just telling me that to unsettle me, and throw me off balance.

I hate to admit it, but it’s working. I’m suddenly super self-conscious, and I can’t help it, my hand settles on my stomach.

“I didn’t have breakfast,” I offer in response.

He leans forward and pushes the chocolate croissant closer to me. With a sigh, I pick it up and take a bite. The chocolate melts on my tongue and combined with the buttery goodness of the flaky croissant, I almost moan. Almost. I manage to bite it back.

“Good, now we can talk,” he says, seemingly satisfied. I hate that I gave in to anything he demanded, but whatever. It’s the last time, so he should enjoy it while he can.

He pauses, just sitting there, watching me eat. He doesn’t eat anything himself, which is a little strange, considering he ordered all this food. But I don’t mention it, because, honestly, I don’t care enough about what he does or doesn’t do to bring it up.

“Well, whatever it is, get on with it, because I have a class in–” I glance at my phone “–twenty minutes.”

Annoyance crosses over his face. I guess he doesn’t like being rushed, either. This guy is a real piece of work.

“I want you to come over to my place tonight. Meet the guys.”

“Yeah, no. I can’t.” I finish the croissant and brush my hands together, dusting off the crumbs. “I have a thing tonight.”

He pulls a face like he can’t believe I actually have a life outside of classes. “What thing?”

I take a sip of my coffee. “Don’t worry about it.” “Harlow …” He says my name like a warning.

I push out a frustrated breath. “It’s not really your business, is it?”

He leans forward, his forearms resting on the round table. “See, that’s the thing, you are my business, Little Rabbit. In fact, everything you do is my business.”

I don’t know this guy at all, but I can tell I’ve already managed to piss him off. It’s probably not hard to do, to be fair. He seems like the kind of person who's always on edge.

I scrunch my nose and answer his question, but only because I don’t want to argue in front of all these people–especially since they’re all still watching us as they sip their coffees.

“I was invited to a party,” I say. He raises a dark brow. “Where?”

“I don’t know. Some girl from my English class invited me. Her sorority is throwing a thing tonight, I guess.”

I hope that by mentioning the sorority, he chills out. It’s a girl thing, so he shouldn’t be worried about other guys being there—not that it’s his call to make. He and I aren’t actually dating. I don’t even know him, for God’s sake. All I know is that his name is Noah Sabastian , he’s royalty on campus, and he’s a controlling douche. Not exactly fuck-me-please material.

He does have one redeeming quality, though. He’s beautiful. Like, cover-of-a-magazine beautiful. Even as he sits across from me, his messy dark hair falls over his forehead just so, making him look disheveled, but in a I-don’t-give-a-fuck kind of way. It’s entrancing.

But I know how fucked up handsome guys can be on the inside, where the shadows lurk, and honestly, I don’t want anything to do with it. I’ve been burned once, and I’m done with sexy-as-fuck guys. No, thanks. Give me a straight-up nerd any day of the week.

“Great,” he says, satisfied. “What time?”

I pause. He doesn’t think he’s going with me, does he? “I’m going with my friend Talia .” I mean, hopefully. She hasn’t agreed to go with me yet. But I’m sure I can convince her. She’s always down for a party.

He laughs a little as if to say, how cute. “Nice try. But you’re not going anywhere without me, Little Rabbit. I don't want to keep having to remind you—you’re mine now.”

It’s not the actual words that get me, it’s the look in his eyes. He means every fucking syllable. Before, I assumed this was all just for show. Like, it was just some elaborate way for him to save face in front of everyone. But that dark look in his eyes is clear.

Noah Sabastian thinks he owns me.

[eva-knits12]

OJ Simspon and Nicole Brown Simpson

(I know thid GIF of Madea seems inappropriate, but there's a reason why I'm using it!)

Trigger warning: Domestic violence

Please contact 1-800-799-7233 if you or someone you know is in a domestic violence situation.

Cancer finally did to OJ what God couldn't do! Now, OJ is rotting in hell. If that's too harsh, then oh, well! It's where OJ belongs!

I was 14 years old when the news broke on that June day back in 1994. I was 15 years old when the verdict came back as not guilty.

Follow this:

OJ Simpson started dating Nicole Brown in 1977. She was 18 years old. He beat her the first time. The abuse NEVER stopped! She was still a teenager, and the abuse NEVER stopped.

Fast forward to 1985. They were married. She was 26 years old. She also had the couples first child, Sydney, in 1985. He made comments about her weight. She was pregnant, and weight gain is important not only for mom, but also for the baby. You have more than a baby. You have an amniotic sac and a placenta, so a mother-to-be needs calories and nutrients for a pregnancy to be normal and healthy.

The abuse NEVER stopped. No matter what she did to please him, the abuse NEVER stopped.

Fast forward to 1988, when their second child was born. The abuse NEVER stopped.

Fast forward to New Years Day, 1989. The abuse wasn't going to stop! OJ was screaming at her, threatening her, and was hitting her, to the point where the police were called. The arresting officer was forced to let him go. OJ told his friends on the LAPD that he was the victim. That is typical for any abuser!

Fast forward to 1992. Nicole files for divorce from OJ, hoping to get away from him. Her devout Catholic parents plead with her to reconcile. She does, due to parental pressure and religious pressure. Still, the abuse NEVER stops!

Fast forward to October 1993, one year after Nicole filed for and was granted a divorce. OJ stalked her while they separated, even breaking into her rented house at one point. This was not the first incident! This was one of many over the year long period.

Nicole called 911, yet again. She reported the incident yet again. He was going to "beat the shit out of her" yet again. OJ was yelling at her and making threats in the background. Yes, audio of this can be tracked down. They were reconciling, which given the past incidents, is a stupid thing to do, but this isn't unusual for anyone in a violent and toxic relationship. It has a lot to do with trauma bonding. Still, the abuse NEVER stopped.

Fast forward to January, 1994. Nicole leaves for good this time. Nicole was renting a home in Brentwood. Everything at that point was going to be about the kids and her sisters and her family. She was finally becoming free from OJ. Plans were made. Plans that included camping, going to Yosemite, to go hiking, go to Club Med, go on vacations, day trips, etc. OJ was also stalking Nicole, and the abuse NEVER stopped. The stalking NEVER stopped.

Fast forward to April, 1994. Nicole meets Ron Goldman. The two start a platonic relationship. Keep in mind that there's a ten year age gap, so a platonic relationship makes a lot of sense. Not just for Nicole, who's navigating life as a single parent, she's navigating life without her abuser for the first time in 15 years. For Ron, who was a waiter, it also made sense. The abuse and the stalking NEVER stopped.

Fast forward to June 12, 1994. Ron Goldman and Nicole Brown are stabbed multiple times by someone hiding in the bushes of Nicole's house. It was believed to be OJ's oldest son. Everyone had just come back from dinner after the daughter's dance recital. Her mother forgot her reading glasses at the Mezza Luna restaurant, so Ron brought them back. The coroner found defensive wounds on Nicole. She was almost decapitated! Ron couldn't get away, he was trying to protect Nicole by screaming "Hey!" as a way to get OJ's attention, hoping that he would run away. The abuse finally stops!

Fast forward to September 13, 1994. President Bill Clinton signs the Violence Against Women Act of 1994.

Fast forward to October 3, 1995. The trial lasts for 11 months. Now, murder trials aren't cut and dry as they are on Law and Order, they're not solved in an hour. Instead, these can take months. The verdict is read as "Not Guilty". White people were just gutted and appalled, while black people were cheering. Celebrity had EVERYTHING to do with this trial. Domestic violence victims were even cheering at the verdict, which was even more disgusting.

During all of this, there were 62 incidents of abuse that were documented by Nicole Brown Simpson. She kept diaries of the abuse. She took pictures of herself after OJ beat her. She kept her important documents, and the diaries of abuse in a safety deposit box at a local bank. (If you're in that situation, please keep your important documents in a safety deposit box, along with recorded incidents of abuse.) You can see in photos that she doesn't have any life in her, any light in her. She looks like a scared animal. The smile isn't even there. Her eyes are scared and sad.

The legal system failed her. The criminal justice failed her. Her parents were fighting for custody so that their grandchildren could be away from this monster. It would have been a matter of time before OJ started to abuse his kids with Nicole. The family court system failed the Browns and the kids.

Celebrity won. OJ got away with murder. In my opinion, OJ is a typical narcissist and a typical batterer. I watched that interview he did back in 2017 or 2018 on FOX. My opinion hasn't changed.

[surpriseattack]

PETER + MJ / DRABBLE. ▎FIRE RED WILD WITH KNOTS AND LIPS THE COLOR OF BLOOD. to the normal eye the crimson isn't there, just a shade of grey as all others in the surroundings they have come to know but to Peter Parker the color that he sees is indescribable. even in his black and white universe he manages to find and track her from many blocks away. and she's all that he sees when she starts making her way out of the police station from the sheriff's office to the cramped, paper filled cubicles of each copper drinking their joe's, filing documents and signing off on a cases. his body moves on autopilot as soon as he sees that fire red, falling into step with the rhythm of her heels as he makes his way towards her direction from the back of the office area.

they almost collide with each other when they both come to an abrupt stop at the top of the stairs, Mary Jane Watson having to seemingly remembered something and he, Peter Parker, having that very thing as he offers the reporter her lost camera. there's a few scratches on it but nothing a little paint job couldn't fix. he's surprised that the thing even survived the debris he found it buried in and maybe he should be more surprised that he and hundreds of others were alive from a terrorist attack. when tired eyes meet the specs of his goggles Noir doesn't make a move. he stands there ever stoic as always and he can see the woman's disappointment. feel it even.

and then she laughs, maybe to lighten up the solemn mood they had found themselves in from the early hours of the morning to now. he hears the underlying fear that lingers from the recent accident in Mary Jane's voice but he doesn't mention that. doesn't dare to knowing how quick she chooses ire in delicate situations. the reporter takes her camera from him, naked fingers touching leather ones. if she could feel his, she'd know how rough and calloused they were. ❛ Hey, Peter... I'm sorry I almost forgot this but thanks for finding it by the way— ❜

❛ Are you ok? ❜ his voice is gentle, a gloved hand rising to give his companion a supportive pat on the shoulder and Mary Jane goes quiet. there's no appropriate question to ask. he just wanted to know even if she did get angry. he wanted to know that she still felt something.

she shakes her head and Peter doesn't need her to say more, knowing the gravity of the moment then but she still provides him with the details. of course she would. she always does. what a stupid question to ask. they've been working for so long together that maybe Mary Jane speaks out of habit or out of shock. this is her way of grounding herself back into the reality she knows. ❛ I wish I could say I was, Peter. I'm covered in soot... I'm covered in blood. My god, a bomb went off — people could've died. I have... glass in my heels and I just, I was so close to cracking this case. ❜ and then they're back to formalities.

this is her way of putting up her own walls. he knows this. they've both become desensitized to the horrors of their careers that any chance of a deep emotional connection is difficult to obtain. they've both become married to their jobs instead of each other too. he recalls talking about wedding bands once but, that felt like a decade ago. a decade of Mary Jane never seeing his face again and he asks if she's "okay"? what a load of hogwash coming from him. and then he hears her break. ❛ If you hadn't been there — ❜

❛ But I was. You don't need to think about my responsibilities. ❜

❛ That isn't fair, Peter. This was my case too. ❜

it would've been so easy to take her hand and grip it. squeeze it tight. but he doesn't. he keeps his distance, despite being so close. they stay there for what feels like an eternity. never finding the next thing to say and refusing to start pointless small talk. and it's in the stillness of each other that they find peace. a quick rest before getting back on the job.

Noir makes the first step down the station stairs as a cab pulls up and he opens the door, ducking his head into the passenger window to provide the address to Mary Jane's house. he feels anxious doing so. he should be the one taking her home but... but what?

❛ Black, right? ��

Noir turns to the red head, cursing under his breath a moment when he hits his head on the frame of taxi's open window. ❛ What? ❜

❛ Six o'clock, my place. I'll be at my window with coffee. ❜ Mary Jane says this so casually as if she just hasn't been through a near death experience. she climbs into the back seat with her briefcase and shuts the door on her own. ❛ See you later, Spider-Man. ❜

when that taxi disappears into the horizon, Noir takes a leap and swings away.

when Mary Jane sets the tray down at the window sill at six, she hears the quiet fall of combat boots making ground on her perron before her. sliding the extra cup of coffee towards her visitor, she smiles up at him. ❛ Hey Peter. ❜

[karenarella22]

Ambush.

This chapter contains Graphic Content read it at your own risk.

***

-Detective please a few words- the reporters crowd the door of the police station- do you have any leads of the murderer?- I try to make my way through the multitude of journalists, or as my father used to call them, leeches who only care about ruin people's lives. The news of the murders spread through the town like the black plague over old Europe, journalists came to the door of the police station the night before after I went home to rest, they camped like a hunter waits for a juicy prey . Somehow the psyche of these types of people is not very different from that of our murderers.

-Let us work, we are doing everything possible to solve what happened- I enter the police station fixing my uniform. I greet my colleagues starting to take the files out on the table to continue with my work. Half an hour passes between paperwork and a long discussion with the head of the section, until the sound of a message on my phone notifies me that I must report to the morgue.

I get out of the elevator while I walk down the long corridor, continuing a few meters in a straight line to arrive in front of the door behind which is the final resting place of three of the four victims in the case.

The smell of formaldehyde hits my nostrils causing me to instinctively bring the palm of my hand to my nose to hide the effect of the stench on my freshly eaten stomach.

-Hello doctor- I see Dr. Misael pass in front of me with what seems to be a decomposing liver in his hand- it seems to be a good morning-

-Considering that you didn't bring me breakfast, It could have been better- this man, for God's sake, the look of a mad scientist perfectly honors his psyche, how is it possible that he can think of eating with the nauseating smell that is here, he adjusts his glasses while looking at me reproachfully.

-I'm so sorry, I really forgot about it - I walk away from the examination table to settle into a chair in front of his desk.

-Okay, tomorrow you bring me two- he doesn't let me answer when he turns his back to me to put on some latex gloves.

I laughed a little when I saw him, this man with bulging eyes, pale skin from the lack of sun, his hands somewhat bruised and skeletal due to arthritis and his spine a little deviated that began to give way due to spending all day lifting bones, is the closest thing to a father figure most of us have on the station. We understand each other very well, so much so that sometimes when I need advice I come down her for his wisdom.

-So... where is the victim of the church?-

-This way- he guides me to a table far from the others where the body was found- his family came to recognize the body this morning, his name is Nick Morgan, he was reported missing two days ago, his wife says he left home but there are no records of him entering his job that day- he uncovers the upper part of the corpse leaving the pale decomposing skin exposed up to the waist- the cause of death is obvious, the cross on the head provoked him, causing death almost instantly - He brings towards me an evidence bag with the murder weapon inside- we managed to lift a partial print of it- it is the first solid clue we have of the murderer in days- the fingerprint experts are analyzing it now-

-We just have to hope it matches someone- I comment enthusiastically

-If it is that it's registered in the system, if there are enough markers for a reliable correspondence- I sigh he cut off all the happiness from the root-...the lacerations on his body agree with those of the second victim Aaron Browson-

-I can see that clearly- I bring my face closer to the wounds, lighting them with a flashlight- it is strange that some of them are much deeper than others-

-They are, they vary from 2 centimeters to 5.8 centimeters in the most extreme cases, the perpetrator may have gotten tired of beating him-

-Or it could have been two people- I pull the blanket back up to the man's head.

-There are no signs of other individuals at any other crime scenes- he retorts.

-But it makes sense with the attack on Thomas Wester and the two people I saw in the church- I answer back.

-That would make sense in that case- he cleans his glasses.

-Well if that's all, thanks for the information I'll come tomorrow with coffee I promise-I walk to the exit door.

-Yes, of course, I'll see it when I believe it- I let out a giggle leaving the office. I go back to my job to write the reports taking into account the new evidence found. I am on this task for almost an hour when I hear a knock on my office door.

-Come in- the door opens revealing Dylan to enter.

-Aeryne we have a problem...- I sigh trying to get the frustration out of my body.

-What happens now? - I hurriedly got up from my place and walked after him. He guides me to one of the detention rooms where one of the journalists who were outside a few hours ago is now behind bars.

-We found this on this man's cell phone- the video begins to play where you can see the most recent victim, Thomas Wester, in the cubicle, confessing in front of Father Marcos that he planned to leave the church since he had fallen in love with a person in the neighborhood and that this relationship would not be approved by the church.

-They didn't find it- interrupts the journalist- I came to show them of my own; I don't know why they lock me up here- he cries.

-What's your name Sir?- I take out my notebook.

-Vicente Conte, journalist for the Daily Post-he's angry, for sure.

-When did you receive this video?-

-This morning, at 10:30 a.m., I was having breakfast when the message from an unknown number came to my phone with this video, I did not recognize the number, I had never seen it before, if it were some of my sources I would have the date and place of delivery of the original copy, they never send me anything by message, you know that law enforcement likes to review information from other people's phones-I laugh at his paranoia.

-Guys get him out of there- Dylan takes the keys to the cell and sets the journalist free. You know when people tell you to pay attention to the hair at the back of your neck, those who warn you that you should flee from the imminent danger that is close of you? In this case ignore them and I would definitely regret that later. -Come with me Mr. Conte- I make him pass in front of me. Attentive to my every movement, the journalist follows me to the office where I let him settle into the chair in front of my desk.- Please make yourself comfortable, sorry for the inconvenience, can I offer you something, coffee or water?-

-Do not waste your time with good manners detective, these will not free you from the legal claim that I will send you for having put me in that cell for no reason-he attacks.

-Please understand that my officers were just doing their job, like you when you get into someone else's life and create speculation about situations that aren't even real- I counterattack with a cynical smile on my lips, I take a seat at my post leaning on the armrests to have a backup in this tense situation- but those suspicions are not why you are still at the police station-

-No... detective...- he takes his time to read the identification plate that is on the desk -Detective Wolf, Aeryne Wolf- interlaces the fingers of his hands on his abdomen.

-Basically my boss ask me to look for someone with your skills to write an article in the newspaper- a sly smile appears on his lips clearly mocking the whole situation.

-Are you thinking of converting to journalism? Although you have the characteristics: beautiful, manipulative and arrogant-he counts his fingers.

-Not in my wildest dreams, Mr. Conte, but I need your help to communicate with the murderer- I finally let out.

-Through my work...- I nod.

-I need you to write an article that explicitly says that the murderer has been arrested, I will give you a first and last name, write the physical description and write a confession that I will write myself- his face is a poem.

-This goes against my principles detective; I would be lying to the public who read me and to my superiors in the newspaper-

-Consider it a reciprocal charity...let me be honest Vicente, we have victims and only a very weak track of the murderer, we are stuck the only way to find him is to pressure him to make a mistake. Think of it as an exclusive, if we do catch the killer, we'll give you all the information you think you need to write a Pulitzer Prize-worthy article and wash your hands of the blood of any victims that happen after this interview if you don't help us. – he stays for a few moments immersed in his own thoughts until he gets up from his seat.

-I accept the proposal, I'll take the exclusive...but I want something else in return...- I see him without understanding as we shake hands in a greeting that I can't get rid of-...it's the only thing I ask for in return, besides the exclusive- he comments without letting go of my hand.

-What do you want in exchange for Vicente? - I tighten my grip on his hand to show that I am not terrified of this completely unknown situation.

-Knowing your deepest nightmares- silence appears in the room for what seems like long minutes, the tension between the two is palpable and there is not a hint of grace in his words, I clear the lump that forms in my throat and return to my emotional center.

-When do you have the time to do the article? - I change the subject letting go of his hand. As an instinctive reflex I rub my hands as if "cleaning" the essence that the man left on my skin and I take a seat again leaving him much higher in my sight.

-Tomorrow night, this is my address and the time I am available- he takes the agenda with a pen from the desk and write it down- don't be late- with a wink and a smile that reveals his pearly teeth he leaves the office leaving the door open as he passes. I follow him with my eyes until I lose sight of him at the exit threshold of the station.

In the distance I see my boss in his office with his eyes on the same objective. I hope this goes well for us, if not it will not only ruin my reputation and that of my captain but also that of the entire police station.

The next day passes without further progress, we manage to stop the false murderer selling marijuana to teenagers in the park, the plan took effect when a policeman accidentally "filtered" the news to the media who, like leeches, waited all morning to capture an image of the new serial killer of the town, despite this the real case is still in the same condition so without any choice I find myself preparing to go to the journalist's house. Despite being an informal visit, I must be prepared for any situation, journalists are known for being unreliable in order to obtain information for a story and I am sure that more than one would kill their own mother for an exclusive. I take the files that I design to create a good story of the alleged murderer and I head to the house of Vinicio Conte.

It is 9:30 at night and considering the lack of vehicles for the winter season that roam the streets I manage to quickly reach the village that works as a home for this subject, it is incredible how the salary of a policeman allows him to spend all this, there are vineyards in front of the house and a security system that makes the place look like a fortress.

I park with an ugly feeling in my stomach, as if a hole is opening in it, to leave only dark and heavy emptiness inside me, I sigh getting out of the car, I must concentrate my nerves to be able to do a good job and catch this murderer. I reach the entrance and knock with my knuckles red from the cold, solid oak it seems. I look at the ground for a few seconds until footsteps are heard behind the door.

I feel the vibration of my phone in the back pocket of my pants, but I decide to ignore it, continue to end this once and for all. The door opens, letting me see Vinicio Conte on the other side with two fill glasses of wine in his hand.

-Good night detective- he steps aside to let me in and so I do. I walk inside checking on my surroundings and I smile falsely at him, which he returns in the same tone.

-Good evening, Mr. Conte- he hands me the glass of wine and turns his back on me so that I can follow him. He is dressed in a black shirt as well as his dress pants matching his leather shoes.

-I saw in the news that you have caught the man who perpetrated the murders- turning my body towards him I passed him the individual's file.

-Joshua Jackson, drug addict reseller of marijuana who paid for his vice generating vice to others, is a piece of garbage but has no part in the murders- I take a seat on the white leather sofa in front of the deep blue granite fireplace that still maintains the embers on.

-Aren't you ashamed to put an innocent man in jail?-he drinks some wine of his glass.

-He's not innocent, but that's not the reason I came here. Shall we start the article?-I interrupt.

-I already have a draft, let me find the laptop and I'll show you- he stands up.

-Of course- I follow him with my eyes until I see him enter an adjoining room. I get up from the comfortable sofa walking from one side to the other of the large living room, on the north wall of the house there is a large library full of special editions, the volumes are impressively large and of very varied subjects, economy, ancient and contemporary history, politics and literature, I take one at random "Divine Comedy".

-A classic of universal literature- his voice appears very close behind me, I quickly turn around with the book still in my hands and move away from his body as much as I can without being so obvious, although my agitated breathing for sure betrays me, I never heard him enter the room, not even his footsteps in the distance.

-Yes...I remember it a little, the truth is, almost nothing but I know it was one of my favorites at school- I admire the outside of the book before returning it to him- from what I see it was also a favorite here, it had had good use.. The pages are worn, it is an old school book, leather cover, hand sewn.

-It was...even today it is, my father gave it to me, it was a gift from my mother for his birthday, although my father already knew it by hard, she liked the age and history that the book contained in its yellowed pages and that's why she gave it to him-

-I understand, my mother had the same tastes regarding books-

-I know- he mutters very to himself returning the book to its place.

-What did you said?-

-I just... I say that mothers have that habit of treasuring old moments, for his part my father ordered me the book to treasure it as my mother would have wanted and continue with his legacy-the book is back in its place in no time.

-His legacy?-we walk together.

-Of course, he wanted me to have it, my grandfather had his own edition of this book and when my father lost his, my mother gave him the other, so that he could continue the legacy of this wonderful book, so my father passed it on to me to me on his deathbed with the promise to carry on with the-he finishes the story while we reenter to the living room.

-That's impressive- I comment perplexed.

-It is, can we start now? - He points to the table behind me where the laptop rested.

-Yes we can- we return to the sofa to start the article.

[bananonbinary]

Time for a Salty Meta Post about Martin!

people who’ve followed this blog for a bit know that spending six hours combing through text for some goddamn sources is my specialty, so i compiled every time jon ever talked about martin’s work in season 1. which for the record, he stopped complaining about all the way back in episode 26, where he was angry that martin of all people got hurt.

things jon gets mad at martin for:

not being able to find records that don’t exist

not being able to find someone based only on a first name

the Dog

not wearing trousers in his off-hours

being the one that got caught up in the jane prentiss thing

mag 004 and mag 012 both have jon taking potshots at martin over research that was proven accurate by outside sources

things jon has never once complained about:

martin not understanding the filing system and just putting stuff away at random

martin being clumsy, constantly ruining things, spilling tea everywhere everyday, etc

martin turning in incompetent, poorly-edited, or badly formatted reports

martin not understanding the terminology used, skills expected, etc., and generally being extremely new to the field

please for the love of god stop making martin the silly bumbling idiot who can’t do anything right just because he doesn’t have a formal education. there’s zero evidence for it in the text, and it’s really weird to act like a 4 year degree would outweigh the *10 years* of job experience he has, not just in academia, but in the institute itself by season one. my boy has worked there longer than ANY of the rest of the main cast. screw you guys.

tl;dr: martin is never once shown to be bad at his job, jon pretty much only ever gets mad at him for the really stupid first impression and also not finding stuff that no one else was able to find either. after martin got hurt, jon talks about his research basically the same way he talks about tim’s or sasha’s work.

fucking proof under the cut:

(i didnt include the s1 finale or martin’s statement bc that’s just...two entire episodes of them talking to each other, but there isn’t really any notable Martin Complaints in either of them imo)

I swear, if he’s brought another dog in here, I’m going to peel him.

[pre-launch trailer]

.

Well, technically three, but I don’t count Martin as he’s unlikely to contribute anything but delays.

[...] Alongside this Tim, Sasha and, yes, I suppose, Martin will be doing some supplementary investigation to see what details may be missing from what we have.

[MAG001 Anglerfish]

.

Martin couldn’t find any records of Ex Altiora as a title in existent catalogues of esoteric or similar literature, so I assigned Sasha to double-check. Still nothing.

[MAG004 Pageturner]

.

I had Martin conduct a follow-up interview with Mr. Woodward last week, but it was unenlightening. Apparently there have been no further bags at number 93 and in the intervening years he has largely discounted many of the stranger aspects of his experience. I wasn’t expecting much, as time generally makes people inclined to forget what they would rather not believe, but at least it got Martin out of the Institute for an afternoon, which is always a welcome relief.

[MAG005 Thrown Away]

.

Martin was unable to find the exact date the original house was built but the earliest records he could find list it as being bought by Walter Fielding in 1891.

[...]

We cannot prove any connection, but Martin unearthed a report on an Agnes Montague, who was found dead in her Sheffield flat on the evening of November 23rd 2006, the same day Mr. Lensik claims to have uprooted the tree.

[MAG008 Burned Out]

.

According to Martin, who was here when they took this statement, it was at this point in writing that Mr. Herbert announced he needed some sleep before continuing. He was shown to the break room where he went to sleep on the couch. He did not awaken; unfortunately succumbing to the lung cancer right there. Martin says the staff had been aware of how serious Mr. Herbert’s condition was, and had advised him to seek medical aid prior to giving his statement, but were told rather bluntly by the old man that he would not wait another second to state his case. I can’t decide whether this lends more or less credibility to his tale.

[MAG010 Vampire Killer]

.

“Veepalach” might also be a mishearing of the Polish word “wypalać”, according to Martin, which means to cauterize or brand. Admittedly, if Martin speaks Polish in the same way he “speaks Latin,” then he might be talking nonsense again, but I’ve looked it up and it appears to check out.

[MAG012 First Aid]

.

I sent Martin to look into this ‘Angela’ character - not that I want him to get chopped up, of course, but someone had to. Apparently, he spent three days looking into every woman named Angela in Bexley over the age of 50. He could not find anyone that matches the admittedly vague description given here, though he informs me that he had some very pleasant chats about jigsaws. Useless ass.

[MAG014 Piecemeal]

.

Martin declined to help with this investigation as he’s “a bit claustrophobic”

[MAG015 Lost John’s Cave]

.

There simply aren’t enough details given in this statement to actually investigate, short of Martin confirming that Mr. Vittery did indeed live at the addresses he provided.

[MAG016 Arachnophobia]

.

Oh, he’s off sick this week. Stomach problems, I think.

Blessed relief if you ask me.

[...]

I asked Martin to try and hunt down Mr. Adekoya himself for a follow-up, but have been informed that he passed away in 2006. 

[MAG017 The Boneturner’s Tale]

.

MARTIN

Well, I need to tell someone what happened, and you can vouch for the soundness of my mind, can’t you?

ARCHIVIST

…

That is beside the point.

[MAG022 Colony]

.

Martin! Good lord man, if you’re going to be staying in the Archives, at least have the decency to put some trousers on!

[MAG023 Schwartzwald]

.

Martin found one other thing while combing through police reports for the Hither Green area. About a month after this statement was given, on May 15th, 2015, police were called out to once again investigate the chapel.

[MAG025 Growing Dark]

.

I know, but it would have to have been Martin, wouldn’t it? I mean, anything goes wrong around here, it always seems to happen to him. Anyway, we’re getting off topic. Why didn’t you report this?

[MAG026 A Distortion]

.

Martin made contact with the son, Marcus McKenzie, but he declined to talk to us, saying that he’d “already made his statement.”

[MAG027 A Sturdy Lock]

.

Tim and Martin had a bit more luck investigating Tom Haan, though only really enough to confirm that he seems to have completely vanished following his departure from Aver Meats on the 12th of July.

[MAG030 Killing Floor]

.

Martin’s research would seem to indicate the place employed a reasonable number of international staff they preferred to keep off the books

[...]

TIM

Ah well, that’s actually what he was asking, huh! Um, apparently Martin, uh, took delivery of a couple of items last week addressed to you. Did he not mention it?

ARCHIVIST

No, he… Oh, yes, actually. I completely forgot. He said he put it in my desk drawer, hold on.

[MAG036 Taken Ill]

[rainy-day-gracie]

To Lose a Bet

HELLO !!

This was a request for Spencer and Reader to be dating and have a bet going on who out of the team has figured it out. 

FILLED with fluff, and implied smut :) thank you for requesting, I had so much fun writing !! 

MASTERLIST

__

“I’m sure Hotch has already figured it out,” I joked to Spencer in the elevator. “He can see things through walls, everyone knows that.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Honestly, I don’t even know if Hotch really even cares if he does know… Who else do you think knows?”

“JJ knows something’s up, but she doesn’t think that we’re-” The elevator opened, making us in earshot of Garcia and Morgan who were deep in a compliment battle. I nodded my head, as if we were in the midst of a professional conversation. “So, yeah… I’ll let you know about those reports-”

Spencer huffed, playing along. “Yes, I’ll review them and get back to you… whenever.”

I tried to suppress a giggle as I heard Morgan pull Spencer aside by the elevator. “Man, do you know if YLN is single? Because a woman like that… there’s no way she’s single… is there?”

Garcia jumped in, adding to the conversation as I walked away. “I saw a hickey on her neck the other day, she tried to hide it but there’s only so much powder can do.”

I stopped by the water fountain, laughing into the faucet as I heard Spencer’s reply. “Um, I don’t know… I don’t know, if she’s single I mean, or about the hickey. Um, I’m getting coffee, you guys want any?”

Once in my office and my laughing fit had passed, I texted Spencer. 

You are one smooth dude

His reply made me laugh even harder. 

Don’t I know it? :)

__

Spencer dropped a stack of files in my office, a sticky note stuck on top. He put the files on my desk and left, a hint of a smile across his face. The sticky note was covered in Spencer’s chicken scratch handwriting. 

$200 to whoever is the closest My bet: Hotch, Rossi, Prentiss know Garcia, JJ, Morgan don’t know

Later that day, I was briefing the team on a new case in Seattle and slipped a note in his pants pocket as we left to board the jet. 

My bet:  Hotch, Rossi, Garcia know Morgan, JJ, Prentiss don’t know You’re on pretty boy :)

Spencer was determined to embarrass me on the jet. I could see it in his face, the twinkle in his eye. 

“Hey YLN, what were you saying about the new guy you’re seeing?” Spencer asked out of the blue while reviewing the case. 

The team was suddenly extremely uninterested in the case, paying close attention to the question Spencer had asked me. 

“Do you have a new man?” Prentiss asked, eyeing me closely. 

A smile came to my face, and I hit Spencer lightly on the arm beside me. “Reid, I told you that in a private conversation.”

Spencer just shrugged innocently. “Oops, forgot that part.”

“I knew you were seeing someone!” JJ said with a grin. “No single person smiles as much as you have in the last few months.”

I tried to hide the blush on my face by looking down at my files, thankfully saved by Garcia’s video call.

“Why is everyone smiling?” She asked, examining the faces of everyone on the jet. 

“YLN is just getting a little lovin’, that’s all.” Morgan replied, a smirk coming to his face. 

Garcia gasped, then furrowed her eyebrows in curiosity. “Who is he?”

Spencer looked over at me with a sly grin. “Yeah, who is he, YLN?”

I made a mental note to slap him when we were in private. “He is going to be a mystery man for now.”

The jet groaned in disappointment, and Spencer winked at me when no one was looking. 

I slipped him a note while Hotch was giving assignments. 

Prentiss didn’t know, Hotch and Rossi didn’t even blink Hope you have $200 to spare, genius

__

After solving the case in two days, Hotch agreed to let us have the night off and enjoy the city of Seattle. 

Spencer shot me a text as the team started to leave the police station. 

I think your stomach hurts. 

I furrowed my eyebrows, looking at him from across the room. He quickly explained, sending another text. 

I think your stomach hurts and you need me to drive you back to the hotel.

I tried not to laugh, faking a grimace as JJ walked past me. “You okay?”

“Uh, yeah... my stomach just hurts really bad, probably something I ate.” I held my gut like it was hurting, and I saw Spencer coming up beside JJ. 

“Maybe you shouldn’t go out drinking with the team, we don’t want you do be sick,” JJ put a comforting hand on my shoulder, and Spencer spoke up. 

“I can drive you to the hotel, I didn’t really want to go out tonight anyway,” Spencer said, looking to me then back to JJ. I tried not to laugh at our stupid lie, JJ rubbing my shoulder like the mom she is. 

In no time at all, Spencer and I were in the SUV driving back to the hotel. 

We piled up in the room I was sharing with Prentiss, watching a stupid soap opera and drinking out of the mini bar. 

Two characters on the screen started having sex, their butts and boobs concealed by carefully placed furniture. 

“Do you wanna do that?” Spencer whispered in my ear, his arm resting across my shoulder.

I laughed at his question. “Wow... that was so smooth, Spencer.”

“So... is that a no?”

I swung my leg over his lap, straddling his hips. “When did I say that?”

Spencer laced his hands roughly in my hair, crashing my lips onto his. Drunk hookups were rarely any fun, but buzzed hookups were where it was at. 

His tongue pressed gently against mine at first, and he suddenly flipped us over to where his heart beat over mine on the bed. 

“We do have some time to kill before the team comes back,” Spencer murmured, his lips attaching to my neck. __

“What the hell?” A voice yelled, light from the hotel hallway illuminating the dark room. 

“Oh shit,” I murmured sleepily against Spencer’s bare chest, turning my head towards the voice. “Prentiss, you’re back?”

“You’re asking me the questions? Do either of you even have underwear on?” Prentiss stared at us tangled up in bed like she had we’d grown a third eye. 

“Nope,” Spencer answered before I could stop him. “We were both tired after... you know, so we just went to sleep.”

Prentiss just opened and closed her mouth, and JJ at that moment chose to join her in the doorway. 

“Oh my God, Garcia was right.” JJ said with raised eyebrows. 

I tried to understand what she had said in my sleepy brain. “Garcia was right about what?”

“That you two were dating, we had a bet going. Prentiss just thought you guys would drunkenly hook up, I thought you were just friends, and Garcia was totally convinced you were dating,” JJ said flatly. “Guess Garcia wins, since neither of you guys are drunk.”

I turned back to Spencer, who was staring at Prentiss and JJ with wide eyes. “I told you, pretty boy! I am so getting at 200 bucks!” __

Breakfast the next morning was... awkward to say the least. The team all sat around a table, eating the hotel breakfast in silence. Finally Morgan couldn’t take it anymore. “What’s going on? It can’t be just me getting weird vibes.”

Prentiss looked to Spencer and I across the table and smirked. “I found an... interesting view when I got back to my room last night.”

Morgan furrowed his eyebrows. “What was it?”

“Reid and YLN are dating, and they lost track of time last night, as you might say.”

Morgan was completely dumbfounded, looking from me to Spencer then back to me. 

“Close your mouth Morgan, you look like a fish. Those two have been dating since April.” Rossi said casually, taking a sip of his coffee. 

Hotch nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Yeah, but they’ve only been sleeping together since late June.”

I laughed hysterically at their comments, gaining the attention of the people around us. “How... did you... know that?” 

Rossi and Hotch just shrugged. “Profiling.”

I giggled, patting Spencer on the back next to me. “Oh wow... you officially owe me $200, genius.”

Spencer just down at his coffee with a blank expression. “This is the first time in my life I’ve ever lost a bet.”

TAG LIST : 

@squirrellover1967 @yomama-umbridge @vixengustin88 @tiktokslut @ sknnymnne

[tf2-hellhole]

TF2 Shattered AU

wow look another au nobody asked for

PREMISE —————

Reyes knew from the moment she started working for the Administrator that the woman was hiding a whole lot from her. The Administrator was incredibly secretive and defensive about anything Reyes asked her, and even her co-worker, Miss Pauling, seemed nervous when she asked about her role. She knew it was dangerous work. Illegal work. But for her friends’ and parents’ safety, she kept her mouth shut.

But one day, she was assigned to work with some files. Someway, somehow, Miss Pauling or one of the other assistants had misplaced a very, very important paper. It ended up in Reyes’ stack of work for the day.

When she found the paper, she was horrified by what was inside. The paper was was full of detailed information about the loved ones and families of every Mann Co. mercenary, as well as where they lived and how to capture them. Administrator was planning to take and use these people as bargaining chips against the mercenaries to make them do work that would endanger themselves and thousands of civilians.

The very first thing she did was bring the papers to the mercenaries and explain what it meant. Of course, everyone was horrified and knew they had to stop the Administrator. But in their horror and confusion, they forgot that the woman had eyes and ears everywhere.

A few days later, Scout frantically called everyone to the common room, saying that they were talking about them on TV. The reporter on the screen explained that the Mann Co. mercenaries had been proven to be responsible for a large string of brutal civilian murders and domestic terrorist attacks. So now, the American government had just began to track all of the mercenaries down.

For a moment, the room was only silent. Maybe the mercenaries had committed many crimes, but they had never done the horrible things the reporter described. And despite knowing that the team was made of the best of the best, they knew they were no match for the government. 

All of a sudden, a voice came over the intercom. The Administrator’s. She explained that she had discovered what the mercenaries were planning. So, to get rid of the threat the mercenaries posed against her, she framed them for many crimes she and her employees had committed. And now, with the American government on her side, she could have each of the mercenaries killed and out of her hair forever. She warned them so they could have the chance to run and get some amusement out of watching them try to escape from her. You could put it that she was playing with her food.

After hours of debate, the mercenaries decided that the best choice was to go their separate ways and try to get away. And so, that night, the team packed their things and said their goodbyes. There was little time for tears and hugs.

Reyes cried for hours and hours once the base emptied. What was she going to do? Where was she going to go? She couldn’t leave, her parents needed her because they couldn’t speak English. She didn’t know what to do.

Soon, Miss Pauling appeared at the door. Reyes got up and approached her, desperately asking for help. The other woman only sighed, apologized, and pulled a gun.

What followed was a short shootout between the two, as Reyes always kept a gun on her too. She was lucky enough to escape quickly, driving home as fast as she could. She called her parents, quickly saying goodbye to them and telling them to go back to Mexico if they can, gathered her things, and fled.

She was able to buy a ticket and get to Europe, where she’s been hiding out for the last decade from the Administrator, praying to God that her friends and family are alright.

If I were to write the story, it would follow parts of the team reuniting and killing the Administrator.

CHARACTER STATUSES —————

Scout: Alive; Gravely injured after a confrontation with police in Boston, but is rescued by Korri. Due to his injuries, his legs are paralyzed and he is stuck in a wheelchair. His mother and brothers mysteriously disappear soon after.

Soldier: Dead; attempted to confront the Administrator himself. He put up a good fight, but ultimately, he was no match for the people she’d employed to protect her.

Pyro: Alive; they luckily escaped and is running around the New Mexican badlands somewhere like some kind of cryptic.

Demo: Dead; poisoned by one of the Administrator’s goons in a bar in Scotland.

Heavy: Unknown; he and his family disappeared very quickly after the team separated. It’s unknown if they were caught, killed, returned to Russia, or something else. (He is actually dead.)

Engineer: Alive; the Administrator knew that if Doctor Dell Conagher, owner of Conagher Tech and one of the US’ leading military inventors, went missing while employed at Mann Co, the government would be on her in an instant. She made him swear not to speak about what happened by threatening to destroy his life’s work and kill his parents.

Medic: Alive; he was successfully captured, but when they attempted to kill him, he was kept alive by his deal with Satan to keep him alive for another fifty years. He was soon rescued by Spy, but not before the Administrator had his eyes removed so he could no longer be any threat to her if he did escape.

Sniper: Alive; ironically, he was shot by an amateur sniper while hiding out in the outback. He survived due to their poor aim, but gained amnesia. The Admin has him brought back to her, and he is tricked into believing the mercs are a threat and used against them.

Spy: Alive; he escaped easily, but he is not the same. His son is dead. His family is dead. His love is dead. He has nothing left. He has this dead, hopeless look in his eyes; they tell you that even though Spy still walks and talks, The Spy is truly dead after losing everything he loved.

Reyes: Alive; she is currently hiding in Europe, as I said. At some point in those ten years, she was attacked by an assassin and was left with significant scarring on her left ribs down to her thighs and has a small limp.

Korri (owned by @gurt-the-great  : Alive; is living in New York with her brother. She’s been mentally broken by losing her partner, her friends, and her arm (and therefore, her ability to draw).

The Ammos (owned by @sary-nator-art): All alive; captured by the Administrator because they knew too much about her and her work.

Scrap (owned by @analyticalinsomniac): Alive; she is now working as a assassin-for-hire. 

Heikama (owned by LeFuzzbol): Alive; flees to Japan or possibly Thaiwan, Admin can’t find him due to him getting help from a few organizations. He is trying to recover from the mental trauma of it, plotting revenge, and working alongside a Yakuza family for a job until then.

[juniorgman187]

Luck of the Universe (Spencer Reid Screenplay)

Season 9 Reid deserves more recognition. Definitely one of my fav looks/seasons. So I wrote about it :) 

Summary: Years after Spencer saves Maggie’s life, they reunite unexpectedly. Maggie thinks it’s fate; Spencer does not. She challenges him and says they’ll meet again, even without intending to. They do meet again, but not under favorable circumstances. Maggie’s life is in danger and Spencer must save her . . . again. 

Couple: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Angst, Fluff, Screenplay Content Warning: Profanity, pregnancy, miscarriage, abduction, violence, death Word Count: 10.5k

DISCLAIMER: This was originally a screenplay but was adapted to have a more cohesive appearance on Tumblr. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

Spencer Reid sits outside a cafe to enjoy his beachside view from a coffee shop. Foreign to California’s sun, Spencer has aloe and sunscreen packed with him. He even wears sunglasses wherever he goes. While he patiently waits for the arrival of his coffee, he reads The Narrative of John Smith. The exact copy that Maeve gave him over a year ago. 

Serving his coffee is Maggie. This event will single handedly change both of their lives forever. 

MAGGIE: Let me know if I can get you anything else. 

As she sets down the cup, Reid thanks her, and out of politeness, he tilts his head forward ever so slightly so that his glasses will shift to the bridge of his nose. This way she can see his eyes. And when she does see his eyes, they are so familiar to her, but she can’t place where she remembers them from. Spencer notices her looking at him.

MAGGIE: Oh sorry, you just looked really familiar. 

SPENCER: Actually we have met before. I’m the agent that, um, saved you.   

Maggie stands there for a moment in complete disbelief. 

MAGGIE: Oh my God, yes! No, I totally remember you now. Wow. Forgive me for not introducing myself sooner I’m -

SPENCER: Maggie. 

Maggie peers down at her name tag and gives him a funny look.

SPENCER: No, I genuinely do remember you, and I didn’t just read your name tag. Um I have what’s called an eidetic memory. I’m able to recall things with high precision, even if it was a brief period of time on one occasion. 

MAGGIE: Really? That’s incredible. I wish I could say the same. All I could remember after being resuscitated was your eyes. I meant to thank you, by the way, for saving me, but at the time I was too in shock. I went to the police department the next day trying to find you, but you weren’t there. And as it turns out, it’s not so easy searching for a pair of hazel eyes. 

Spencer smiles. 

SPENCER: I’m Dr. Spencer Reid. I’m a Supervisory Special Agent with the Behavior Analysis Unit in Quantico, Virginia.

Hearing his name completely changes her. She says it to herself in disbelief. For years she’s wondered who he was, and now she knows.

MAGGIE: So what brings you back to California? 

SPENCER: We finished a case here earlier. I’m just killing time until I go back by reading.

MAGGIE: May I?

Maggie extends her hand to ask for the book politely. Spencer hands it to Maggie. She recognizes it almost immediately. 

MAGGIE: Oh, I love Arthur Conan Doyle. This is just one of those novels I wish I could read again for the first time. 

Spencer doesn’t respond, he’s just so enamored by the way she thinks and speaks. She misinterprets his silence as a sign that he’d rather not keep talking. 

MAGGIE: I should probably let you get back to reading. I wouldn’t want to keep you from the opinionated Everyman John Smith. I hope you have a safe travel home.

Maggie begins to get up from her chair.

SPENCER: Wait um, I don’t normally ask this, but I still have a few hours until my flight and I’d really love to keep talking with you so do you think maybe we could go somewhere or -

MAGGIE: I would love to, but I’m working until the closing shift tonight. 

SPENCER: Oh okay. 

Maggie is conflicted. Against her better judgement, she agrees. 

MAGGIE: You know what? I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere. 

Excitement rises in Spencer. When Maggie goes into the coffee shop, he tries to contain himself. He fixes his hair and straightens out his cardigan and tie. Maggie comes back out. 

MAGGIE: Ever been to the pier?

. . . 

Maggie and Spencer are looking out onto the ocean from the pier. It’s one of the rare times that they aren’t being swallowed by a huge crowd. It’s just them, a few other people, and the sunset. An ocean breeze blows through, making Maggie shiver and bump into Spencer. 

MAGGIE: My bad. Sorry. 

SPENCER: Do you want my - 

MAGGIE: No, no I’m fine. 

Spencer ignores her statement and drapes his cardigan around her. Though she would never admit it, it sort of smells like him - and it’s the most comforting smell in the world. 

MAGGIE: It’s beautiful isn’t it?

Maggie says while looking out to the sunset.

SPENCER: Yeah, it is. 

He says while looking at her. 

After a couple seconds, she notices him staring, looks at him, smiles, and nudges him. 

MAGGIE: It’s getting late. We should head back. 

Spencer follows close behind as Maggie leads the way. 

MAGGIE: I wish we could’ve hung out longer, but I don’t want to leave Tony running the shop alone for too long and I wouldn’t want you to miss your flight. 

SPENCER: For what it’s worth, I enjoyed the little time we did spend together. 

MAGGIE: I did, too. 

SPENCER: So maybe, when I’m back here, we could make plans. 

MAGGIE: I’ll look forward to your return then. 

Maggie and Spencer walk a little longer in a comfortable silence, until finally they’re back at the coffee shop. 

MAGGIE: Do you have a pen?

Spencer hesitates for a moment, but ultimately, has to place his hand on Maggie’s hip to retrieve the pen inside the pocket. This gesture startles her and causes her to remember that she was wearing his cardigan. 

MAGGIE: Oh sorry, I forgot that I was wearing this.

SPENCER: No keep it. It looks better on you anyway. Consider it an early birthday gift. September 8 right?

MAGGIE: How did you- Oh right. Eidetic memory. 

Spencer hands her the pen and Maggie reaches for a napkin from the table and writes her number on it.

MAGGIE: So if you’re ever insanely bored at 3 a.m. or you’re not busy saving someone’s life, call me. 

Spencer takes the napkin. 

SPENCER: Will do.

He tries to mask how excited he really is. 

Maggie heads back inside, but stops herself at the door. She turns back to Spencer.

MAGGIE: (genuinely asking) Do you know how often people reconnect without intending to after years of not seeing each other?

SPENCER: Not very often I suppose. 

MAGGIE: This could very well just be a huge coincidence, but it really feels like some luck of the universe that I’m talking to you right now. And I think we’ll be seeing each other soon again. 

Spencer’s intrigued. As a doctor, he’s pragmatic. Romantic notions such as destiny and luck - he wasn’t a believer of. Even God, he was skeptical of. But he wanted to see Maggie again, even if that meant he had to agree that it was fate after all.

SPENCER: And if we don’t?

Maggie pauses to answer his question. 

MAGGIE: Then we will eventually. 

Before Maggie opens the door, she notices Spencer pulling money out of his pocket to pay for his coffee. She stops him.

MAGGIE: It’s on the house. 

She says with a small smile that’s returned with a grin that creeps upon Spencer’s face. When she fully enters the cafe, Spencer is left alone with his thoughts. 

. . .

It’s the next day. The BAU is seated at the round table. Penelope is presenting the case. Reid’s momentarily distracted. He plays with the napkin in his book. It’s the napkin with Maggie’s number on it. His fixation lasts for so long that he misses the presentation entirely. It’s only when JJ asks him a question directly does he tune in and snap out of his trance. 

REID: What was the question?

Reid shifts in his seat uncomfortably and tries to hide his confusion by opening up the case file. 

ROSSI: You’ve been awfully quiet this morning. A little too quiet. Care to share?

REID: Nothing. Just thinking. 

He’s lying and they all know it. The team exchanges suspicious glances.

REID: Sorry, Garcia, could you repeat it one more time?

GARCIA: Why of course! Anything for you, Boy Wonder. A week ago, Brynn Dryer disappeared from her home late at night. 48 hours after she was reported missing, a couple jogging past a lake found her body. In the M.E’s report, there was a terrifyingly large amount of evidence that she was brutally beaten and clubbed. The official C.O.D was blunt force trauma to the head and the lake was nothing more than a disposal site. Less than a day later, Eliza O’ Hara went missing after someone invaded her home. Yesterday local P.D found her in the middle of a  field by the highway. Same M.O. The police department is anticipating that when you land, another girl will go missing. 

Spencer notices something. 

REID: Wait, can you put their pictures side by side?

Garcia does so. Spencer makes a connection. 

JJ: What is it, Spence?

REID: The similarities between the two victims are uncanny. Notice the eye color, skin tone, hair style, even down to the freckles they have.  

BLAKE: Alright so he’s got an aggression toward brown eyed, tan brunettes with bangs and freckles. 

ROSSI: And I have an aggression toward telemarketers but you don’t see me clubbing them to death. 

HOTCH: The cooling off period between kills is getting shorter. He’s escalating and we’re going to put a stop to this before he hits his stride. Garcia, you’re coming with us. Wheels up in 30.

The team is leaving the round table. 

. . .

The team is on the flight. 

HOTCH: JJ, as soon as we land, I need you setting up a press conference to let the women in the area know to be vigilant. After that, we’ll interview the family’s of Eliza and Brynn. I need Blake and Reid working on the geographical profile. Dave, you and Morgan will take a closer look at the bodies and see if you can’t gather more information. And Garcia, 

GARCIA: Yes, sir?

HOTCH: Find as many more connections between these women as you can, and contact any other women who fit the victimology. 

GARCIA: Yes, sir. 

ROSSI: Apparently, it'll be 101 degrees when we land. Remind me again why people live in California?

Reid perks up. He didn’t even know he was going back to California. But now that he does, he’s even more on edge. 

. . .

Reid works on the geographical profile, while Blake assists from her chair. There’s something off about Reid, and she’s about to find out what. 

BLAKE: Hey, you alright, Reid? You seem like you’re a million miles away. 

Reid stops working on the map. He turns around to face Blake. 

REID: I met this girl yesterday. She was actually a former victim I resuscitated. And before I left, she said she had a feeling we would see each other again soon.

Spencer pauses and purses his lips. 

SPENCER: She looks just like the other victims.

BLAKE: So you’re worried that when you see her again, it’ll be because of this case. 

REID: Do . . . do you think I could call her? To let her know. 

BLAKE: I’m not saying I wouldn’t want to break the rules if I were you, but I can’t, in good conscience, advise you to let her know what’s happening. By doing so, you’re giving her an advantage other people don’t have. If she tunes into JJ’s press conference, I’m sure she’ll be safe. 

REID: I thought Maeve was gonna be safe too. Look how that turned out.  

Blake is at a loss for words. Here she is, the linguist, and yet she can’t find the right words to tell Reid to comfort him. 

. . .

JJ sits beside Garcia as Garcia sets up her system. 

JJ: Spence has been acting really weird today. 

GARCIA: So it’s not just me! I knew something must’ve been wrong because earlier on the flight, I asked if he wanted to play online chess with me and he said no. Can you believe that? I know he’s all anti-tech and everything, but he’s never passed up a game of chess. So that’s why I’ve already done some digging.

JJ gives Garcia the face of “You shouldn’t have done that.” 

GARCIA: Okay, but before you say I shouldn’t have, you should see this. 

Garcia pulls up a small window on her computer to show to JJ. JJ is shocked. 

JJ: A three hour call with his mom last night? Could’ve just been his regular check in.

GARCIA: See that’s what I thought, too, but look. 

Garcia scrolls further up the call list. 

JJ: He hasn’t called his mom in months. 

GARCIA: We all know Reid tells everything to his mom. Something must’ve happened yesterday. 

Unbeknownst to Garcia and JJ, Reid walks in. 

REID: Hey, guys - what’re you looking at?

It’s too late now. Reid’s already seen it.

REID: You’re keeping tabs on me now? How long have you been monitoring me? Huh?

Anger possesses Reid. 

GARCIA: Just since this morning. I only looked at your call history briefly. 

REID: Unbelievable. 

JJ: We were just worried about you. We all are. There’s obviously something going on. 

REID: So then ask me about it. Ever thought of that? 

JJ: We’re sorry. 

REID: Yeah no, I’m fine, thanks for asking. 

Reid storms off from JJ and Garcia. 

. . .

Hotch, Rossi, and Morgan all meet Garcia, JJ, and Blake before delivering the profile. Spencer’s missing.

MORGAN: Where’s Pretty boy?

BLAKE: I thought he was going to talk to Jennifer and Garcia.

GARCIA: He did, but something happened . . . he was upset and left. I thought maybe he went back to working on the geo-profile.

HOTCH: Garcia, when did you last speak to him? 

GARCIA: Oh, I don’t know, sir, um, maybe fifteen minutes ago?

HOTCH: Morgan, go find Reid. We’ll deliver the profile. 

MORGAN: Where should I be looking?

BLAKE: He went to a coffee shop yesterday. I’m not sure which one, but it’s a start.

. . .

Reid is frantically entering the coffee shop. He scans the room for Maggie but doesn’t see her. 

TONY: Hey, what can I get for you?

SPENCER: Is Maggie here?

TONY: Who’s asking?

SPENCER: (flashing his badge) I’m Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI. Let me ask you again, where’s Maggie?

TONY: Didn’t show up today. 

SPENCER: Did she call in sick?

TONY: Nope.

SPENCER: When was the last time you saw her?

TONY: Last night when we were working the closing shift.  

SPENCER: Do you know how she got home?

TONY: She walked. I tried to offer her a ride, but she said she likes to walk. Something about clearing the mind. 

SPENCER: Did she walk alone?

TONY: Mhm. 

Spencer’s mind swirls. He is living his worst nightmare all over again. When he turns around and sees Derek pulling up. Reid rushes out of the coffee shop and hops into the passenger seat immediately. Derek doesn’t even question it. 

REID: Drive. I need Garcia on the phone. 

Derek dials her.

GARCIA: Did you find Rei-

REID: (cutting her off) Garcia, I need you to look up Magnolia Tate. Get me her address. 

MORGAN: What is it, Reid?

REID: She didn’t show up to work today. Her coworker said the last time he saw her was when she was walking home. She fits the victimology. Garcia, the address? 

GARCIA: 178 Citrus Boulevard. Be safe. 

REID: Thank you, Garcia. 

GARCIA: Of course. And, Reid?

REID: Yeah?

GARCIA: I’m really super-duper sorry about earlier. 

REID: It’s fine. I know you guys were just looking out for me. 

Reid can sense Garcia smiling through the phone so he promptly hangs up knowing their business is resolved. 

MORGAN: Reid, there is a good chance this could just be a coincidence. 

REID: I’m telling you - nothing with this girl is just a coincidence.

MORGAN: Well, have you called her yet?

REID: No.

MORGAN: Then call her now, Reid. 

REID: I can’t. 

MORGAN: Yes, you can. 

REID: I can’t. 

MORGAN: Why not?

REID: I’m scared that if I call her, I won’t be able to stop, and I’ll want to keep talking to her, but I can’t do that. Not when I know what it’s like loving something death can touch.

MORGAN: Is this about Maeve?

REID: It’s always about Maeve! Morgan, I watched her die in front of me. And just knowing that right now I could be in the same position -

MORGAN: Listen, I know how guilty you feel about Maeve. Man, I feel guilty about her, too, but you gotta understand that if this is connected to our case, you’re gonna save her. Trust me on this. 

REID: Yeah, okay. 

MORGAN: So how do you two know each other?

REID: She was actually a previous victim of ours. Nearly a decade ago, I performed CPR after her ex-boyfriend pushed her off the boat, bound and gagged. They were out on the lake watching the Fourth of July firework show, but a witness recognized her from the news, which ultimately saved her life. Prior to that, he killed practically all of her next of kin because he believed they were responsible for the restraining order she filed against him. 

MORGAN: Why’d he risk taking her out in public?

REID: He was recreating their first date. How do you not remember this? 

MORGAN: Actually, now that you mention it, I do remember the case. Cause you made that stupid joke that he was trying to reignite a spark.

Reid makes an offended/sad face. Morgan smiles.

REID: You know, taking into consideration how much emotional trauma we’ve been through combined, there is a very real possibility that our relationship would be, for lack of a better word, doomed. She has no parents, my mom has schizophrenia. We’ve both been held hostage. I’ve been hospitalized, and she’s potentially been abducted for a second time. 

MORGAN: Seems like the perfect fit to me. 

REID: I’m being serious. 

MORGAN: I am, too. 

REID: Statistically, 40% of all long distance relationships end up failing in some way, including relationships where the partners are married. And of that 40%, 70% of these failures occur because of unplanned circumstances that happen to one of the participants in a relationship. Unplanned circumstances are practically a part of our line of work. Not to mention, most long distance relationships survive on two in-person visits per month. But relying on getting two cases in California per month is completely unrealistic. 

MORGAN: Kid, you can give me all the statistics and numbers to convince me why you shouldn’t be together, but the one thing you haven’t said is that you don’t like her. 

REID: Fine, I don’t like her. 

MORGAN: Then why am I driving to her house?

Reid pauses, not ready to admit he’s wrong. 

REID: Because this could be a lead on the case. 

MORGAN: Whatever you say, Pretty Boy. 

After a long period of time, Reid finally speaks.

REID: At first, I only noticed her because she looked like Maeve. Even when we were talking, it felt like I was talking to Maeve again. But then, she surprised me. She said that seeing me again felt like a “luck of the universe.” That’s when I realized, she’s not a girl who reminds me of Maeve. She’s her own person. She’s Maggie.

MORGAN: See that wasn’t so hard now was it?

REID: I will crush you.

. . .

Morgan and Reid are walking up the flight of stairs to get to Maggie’s apartment. 

MORGAN: Remind me again of the plan. Because realistically, she could just be playing hooky or be out somewhere else. 

REID: Once we get to her apartment, if she’s not there, I’ll call. 

MORGAN: Have we thought about what we’re gonna say if she is there? Oh sorry ma’am, we thought you were kidnapped.

REID: I’ll figure it out. 

Reid and Morgan are in her hallway. Morgan knocks on her door, but the door moves when he knocks on it. It’s open. Morgan and Reid exchange glances. Morgan reaches for his gun as he cautiously opens the door wider to enter. When they do, there’s no one inside. But there was an obvious sign of a struggle. A glass vase has been smashed.

REID: Call Hotch. I’ll call her. 

Morgan goes to the side to let Hotch know.

REID: (to himself) Please pick up. Please pick up.

MAGGIE: (her voicemail) Hey, it’s Mags. Sorry I couldn’t get to the phone right now, but if you leave a message I’ll call you back when I can. 

Hearing Maggie’s voice almost makes him want to break down in tears, but he composes himself. 

MORGAN: Reid, we gotta go. Garcia found something. 

. . .

Hotch, JJ, Blake, Rossi, and Garcia are all together in the conference room while on the phone with Reid and Morgan. 

MORGAN: What’d you find, Baby Girl?

GARCIA: Well after doing some digging, I unearthed Marcus Linden and Toby Forthword. Who are they you may ask? Good question. They are Eliza O’Hara and Brynn Dryer’s sons. And you’re probably thinking, they have children? Yes indeedio they do. The reason I didn’t find this earlier was because when Brynn and Eliza were teen moms, they set up closed adoptions for their sons before they were born. I’ve been trying to find any contact they might’ve made with the agency or their kids since the adoptions, but I haven’t been able to. I thought that was weird, but I started searching for other women that fit the criteria, and would you believe - there was one. 

The pause Garcia takes before saying it, tells Reid it’s Maggie. 

GARCIA: Magnolia Tate.

Reid is at a loss for words. His mind is trying to wrap about what he’s hearing, but it’s all so much. 

HOTCH: Could you find any more connections?

GARCIA: A week before the abductions, all three of them went to a clinic for women who were pregnant or planning to be. 

Reid bites his lips as he tries to grasp it all. 

REID: Is she pregnant? 

All of them know who he’s referring to. 

JJ: Spence . . . they all were.

If Reid’s jaw could be on the floor, it would. Even Morgan winced as JJ revealed the news. A moment of silence falls over the group as they all feel for Spencer. Hotch is the first to speak after nearly a minute of not.

HOTCH: Apply those precedents to teen mothers in the early 2000s and cross it with women that gave birth to sons who ended up in the system instead of being adopted. 

MORGAN: Baby girl, look at kids that are around 18-20 now. He would’ve been recently freed from the system. He’ll most likely have a history of anger management issues or disciplinary issues. 

ROSSI: The mother might also be recently deceased. 

JJ: There’s your stressor.

BLAKE: With the death of his biological mother, he wouldn’t get the answers he wanted. He’d look for them from the women that his mother is similar to. Brynn, Eliza, and Magnolia all serve as surrogates. Garcia, he’d be aiming to work in the system. Not only would he want to prevent other kids from going through what he did, but it would also explain how he found them. 

JJ: You know the fact that all three women were pregnant could account for his anger. To him, that’s the ultimate form of betrayal. Giving their son up, only to have another child in the future to keep.

GARCIA: Got it. 

Spencer is still trying to process. He stays quiet as he fiddles with the napkin. It almost appears as though he might tear it.

. . .

Maggie’s balled up in a corner, hugging her knees. She’s badly beaten. She’s bleeding, her eyes are swollen from crying and she’s looking down at her stomach. The unsub is standing, watching this.

UNSUB: Don’t cry, Magnolia. I wouldn’t have done that if you just answered me. 

MAGGIE: You killed my baby!

UNSUB: And I’ll do more if you don’t answer me!

MAGGIE: Please . . . I can’t give you the answers you want. I’m not your mother. 

UNSUB: If you don’t answer me, I’ll hurt your little boy. I’ve been watching him very closely. His name is Elijah Martin, cute kid by the way. Quite the over-achieving 12 year old. He’s in soccer and track and field. Wanna see his school picture?

Maggie closes her eyes and turns her head so she doesn’t have to see. 

UNSUB: See, Magnolia, what you’re going through right now, is only a fraction of what I had to go through in my foster homes. I was tortured, bullied, abused. All because that old hag didn’t want to make the sacrifice to be a mother. So answer me this, how could you give him up?

MAGGIE: I may not have made the sacrifice to be a mother, but I did make a sacrifice the day I chose not to be his. I wanted to keep him. I cried when I watched him leave with that other family. But I couldn’t be the mother he needed.

UNSUB: Why haven’t you called him? Or tried to get him back?

MAGGIE: Reaching out would’ve done more harm than good. Not knowing who I am, or who his father was, meant that we could never stand in the way of his future. He can reach his fullest potential - free of mine or Charlie’s hindrance. 

The unsub understands Maggie. She’s gotten through to him. But he still carries anger. He groans in frustration and grabs Maggie by the collar of her shirt.

UNSUB: We’re gonna take a little trip.

. . . 

The BAU is at the local Police Department. Garcia is reading to them what she’s found. 

GARCIA: I know a textbook serial killer when I see one. His name is Ray Lewis-Fernandez. Throughout his time in foster care, he was a troublemaker. He never stayed for more than a month in a group home. Quite a Dennis the Menace, according to his foster families. It also says here that he got caught on multiple occasions trying to get his file so he could find his mother. Her name was Shawna Heights, and I say “was” because she passed away exactly two weeks before he was emancipated. 

MORGAN: So this guy is finally able to find his mother on his own, only to realize he missed her by two weeks. 

GARCIA: Talk about bad luck. But that isn’t even the worst of it. If Ray did do some digging after his emancipation, he would’ve discovered that Shawna had two sons and a daughter only a few years after he was born. 

JJ: Did he try to contact them?

GARCIA: No, but that’s the surprising part. I profiled him wanting to reach out and be one big ol’ happy family, but then I remembered I’m not a profiler.

REID: Wait, that might actually be it.

Everyone is shocked to hear Spencer speak up. 

GARCIA: Wait, I’m right?

REID: Foster families mentioned he’d been trying to find his mother but at the core of its meaning - he’s trying to find family. If his mission is to find family, he wouldn’t stay away unless he had to. Garcia, check if there’s a restraining order on Ray. 

GARCIA: Bingo, Boy Wonder! Malcolm, Shawna’s husband, filed it against him just days after Shawna’s funeral. 

REID: The restraining order means he can’t come within a certain distance of the kids, right? So he wouldn’t risk it all just to have lunch with them or send a letter. Think about it - high risk, high reward. Ray would only violate the order, if he could have them completely. But in order to not get caught, he’ll use maternal figures to lure them. They just lost their mother and seeing or talking to someone so similar to Shawna would make them that much more susceptible. But Brynn and Eliza are both mothers who have given up their sons. This means they know what inadequate guardians look like. They’re aware the kids are better off with Malcolm, and they won’t be responsible for abducting them and placing them under Ray’s care. It would completely go against their own reasoning for giving away their children. Their refusal to help him execute the plan angers him to the point of murder. He isn’t just killing because they’re surrogates for his rage, but because they refuse to help him achieve his goal. 

ROSSI: The kids are his endgame. 

BLAKE: All he’s wanted is a family. Now that he knows he has one that hasn’t already betrayed him, he’ll stop at nothing to have them.

HOTCH: What’s the address, Garcia?

GARCIA: Already sent it, sir. 

The BAU rushes out of the conference room. 

. . .

Maggie and Ray are sitting in his car. They’re watching the three children play - staking them out. Malcolm - their father, is nowhere to be seen. We’re to assume he’s at work while they’re at home. 

RAY: You see the boy with the red hoodie? That’s Malcolm Jr. He’s the oldest. Same age as your boy. Then Evan is the middle child. He’s eight. But the baby - she’s my favorite. Her name is Ariel cause of her red hair. She’s six. 

Maggie smiles for a split second before frowning. 

MAGGIE: You don’t have to do this. 

RAY: And I’m not. Because you will. 

Maggie breaks her gaze from the children to look at Ray with shock. 

MAGGIE: No, no, no I’m not kidnapping them. I won’t do it.

Ray retrieves his gun and points it at her stomach. 

RAY: You had a chance to have your family with Elijah. But you gave him up. Now that I have a chance, you’re gonna help me. 

MAGGIE: What if I don’t?

RAY: You’re smart. Figure it out.

MAGGIE: I will not be taunted with death if I don’t help you take someone else’s babies away. So go ahead, kill me. I’ve got nothing left to live for anyway. 

A gunshot. 

Standing in front of the car, is Malcom with his shotgun. The windshield is shattered by a single bullet that penetrated it. Malcolm fired a shot right through Ray’s head. Maggie is alive and in complete and total shock. Once Malcolm knows he’s dead he rushes to her door to help her. 

MALCOM: You have to unlock it. 

Maggie is forced to reach over Ray’s dead body and unlock the car. When she does, Malcolm helps her exit the vehicle. Maggie’s seen putting pressure on her stomach to stop the bleeding. 

Within seconds of escaping, police SUV’s arrive. Spencer is the first to run out of the car. 

Relief overcomes Maggie. 

MAGGIE: Spencer!

She stops him before he can hug her.

MAGGIE: No wait! I’m bleeding. 

Spencer ignores this and embraces her. Maggie sobs hysterically when he does. 

MAGGIE: He . . . he killed my -

SPENCER: Shh, I know. I know. I’m here now, okay?

Neither of them pull away. 

MAGGIE: Oh my god. I can’t believe you’re here. I knew I’d see you again. 

SPENCER: Yeah, you did. You were right Mags. 

These words make Maggie shut her eyes and smile. 

Hotch approaches the pair from behind. 

HOTCH: Miss Tate, there’s an ambulance here for you. Let’s get you to a hospital.

Maggie nods as Spencer helps her limp to a stretcher. 

When she situates herself and is lifted into the back of the ambulance, Spencer turns to Hotch. 

SPENCER: Can I - 

HOTCH: Yes, yes, go. We’ll meet you there. 

Spencer enters the back of the ambulance and sits beside Maggie as they ride to the hospital together. 

MAGGIE: You’re coming?

Spencer nods and gives a small reassuring smile. 

Another tear escapes her eyes as she smiles through the oxygen mask to thank him. 

. . .

The entire team is seated in a waiting room. Spencer is standing up and pacing as he waits for the doctor. 

A doctor soon enters. 

DOCTOR: Is there a Spencer Reid?

Spencer comes over quickly. 

SPENCER: That’s me.

DOCTOR: Come with me, sir. 

Spencer follows the Doctor. 

DOCTOR: Luckily, the lacerations didn’t travel far enough to do a significant amount of damage that would require surgery, but we did have to perform a blood transfusion due to the amount of blood she lost. 

SPENCER: How’s the baby?

DOCTOR: It was too early to tell the sex of the baby before she miscarried. She’s awake now and has been asking for you. 

SPENCER: Thanks. 

The doctor leaves as soon as Spencer knocks on the door. 

SPENCER: (quietly) Maggie?

Maggie’s face lights up when she sees him. 

MAGGIE: Hey you. 

Spencer pulls a chair closer to Maggie’s bedside to take her hand and kiss the back of it. She smiles as he does this. 

SPENCER: How are you feeling?

MAGGIE: Is it possible to feel incredibly lucky and incredibly lucky at the same time?

Spencer gives her that small reassuring smile. 

MAGGIE: I’ll be okay.

SPENCER: Good.

MAGGIE: I’m starting to regret not letting Tony take me home. 

Maggie and Spencer share a laugh. 

SPENCER: Yeah, I think you should let him drive you from now on. 

MAGGIE: Yeah, you’re probably right, but I don't think I want to work there anymore. Or even live here for that matter. 

SPENCER: I don’t blame you. 

MAGGIE: I grew up here, but it doesn’t feel like home anymore. 

SPENCER: Where are you thinking of going?

MAGGIE: Well, I completed my bachelor’s degree to become an English teacher, but I never applied to any schools. I think in my gut I knew I didn’t want a job to tie me down here, otherwise I’d never leave California - no matter how much I should. So realistically anywhere that’s offering positions to English teachers is ideal. 

Hearing Maggie’s an English major doesn’t surprise Spencer. 

SPENCER: You know, when I go back to D.C, I can find open teaching positions for you. Moving there would be a big change, but I think you’d feel safer at least.

MAGGIE: I think I would too. And I wouldn’t mind the change. Getting a couple thousand miles closer to you doesn’t sound so bad.

Spencer cheekily grins. 

SPENCER: Yeah?

Maggie nods. 

Hotch enters the room.

HOTCH: It’s time. 

Reid nods and turns back to Maggie. 

SPENCER: I’ll see you soon.

MAGGIE: Can’t wait. 

SPENCER: Goodbye, Maggie. 

He sits up and kisses her forehead. For a moment, he rests his forehead on hers. Maggie smiles when he does this little gesture. 

MAGGIE: Thank you. 

Spencer nods and shuts the door behind him when he leaves. 

With a heavy heart, Spencer leaves the hospital. 

. . .

On the plane back, everyone is asleep besides Spencer and Hotch. 

HOTCH: How is she?

SPENCER: She’ll be okay, but I can’t seem to figure out why. I thought she’d be broken. And I think deep down she is, but when she smiles, she isn’t faking it. 

HOTCH: “Sometimes the ones who have the brightest smiles are the ones who have known and endured deep darkness.”

SPENCER: Dodinsky. (the author of the quote)

. . .

It’s been a week since Spencer has visited Maggie, but he’s back now. Maggie is lying on her hospital bed, with Spencer entering her room. He hides something behind his back.

SPENCER: Knock! Knock! I brought you something.

MAGGIE: Oooh, fun!  

Spencer pulls out headbands with the words “Fourth of July” in block letters. 

SPENCER: Here. 

He slides one on top of her head and puts the other on himself. 

MAGGIE: What’s this for?

SPENCER: Sometimes when we go through something traumatic, we subconsciously link the tragic event with the date it happened on. It happens most often with death anniversaries, birthdays, or in your case, holidays. But I want to make the Fourth of July a good holiday again. So earlier, I asked the doctors if I could take you up to the roof to watch the fireworks. 

MAGGIE: Spencer . . .

SPENCER: Humor me. 

Maggie’s reluctant but she still reaches out her arms to have Spencer help her out of bed anyway. He wheels over the wheelchair to her and she groans. 

MAGGIE: Are you actually gonna make me use that?

SPENCER: I mean, you’re welcome to walk around the hospital with your backless patient gown.

Maggie laughs and complies. Spencer begins to wheel Maggie out of her room and into the elevator that goes up to the roof. When they finally get there, Maggie’s face lights up. There’s a whole picnic set out for the two of them. A blanket with small fixings is laid out for them. 

Maggie rises from the wheelchair and turns around to engulf Spencer in the biggest hug. 

MAGGIE: Thank you. This is like the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me. 

Spencer hugs her back even tighter. His hand is on the small of her back, and for a second he can feel her smooth skin, but like the gentleman he is, he tightly wraps Maggie’s hospital gown to cover her exposed skin. A small gesture that to Maggie, does not go unnoticed. 

. . . 

Maggie and Spencer's backs are lying flat against the blanket. They’re in the middle of a conversation where each of them are smiling.

SPENCER: JJ said that Henry wanted to dress up as his favorite profiler, and he came into the office as me. I even gave him my badge.  

MAGGIE: That is adorable! I can’t wait to have kids and celebrate Halloween with them. 

Spencer goes quiet, making Maggie realize what she said. 

MAGGIE: Oh, gosh, sorry I did not mean for that to take a dark turn. 

SPENCER: Do you want to talk about it? 

Maggie pauses. 

MAGGIE: Um, I mean, sometimes I get sad, but for the most part I’m okay. I think I’ve finally accepted that it happened. You know, I’m actually sort of relieved that I didn’t carry the baby full term, because could you imagine how complicated that would be? Yeah, it’s . . . it’s better this way. And I’ve always wanted a family, but if I had that sperm donor’s baby, I wouldn’t have a family, it’d just be me and the baby. But I want my child to grow up with a father, you know?

Yes, Reid does know. He wishes his father was around. 

SPENCER: Yeah, I do. 

MAGGIE: What about you? Do you want kids?

SPENCER: Absolutely. It’s funny because I always say that I could never picture myself leaving my job and I couldn’t imagine doing anything else. But if I had kids, they’d be the exception. I, uh, 

Spencer lightly laughs and looks down. 

SPENCER: Yeah, I don’t know, I just really want to be a dad one day. 

MAGGIE: You’d be a really good dad. I mean that. 

Originally, Maggie and Spencer were both looking up at the sky, but after Spencer turned his head and Maggie turned hers, their faces were only inches away. Spencer licks his lips as he contemplates kissing her. But he pivots. He smiles and kisses her forehead. 

Simultaneously, a firework goes off, startling the duo. Maggie laughs in excitement. 

SPENCER: Did you know that at MIT, one of the lessons they taught students earning their degree in chemistry was how to make a firework?

MAGGIE: You know how to make one? What do they use to make the colors?

SPENCER: Good question. To create certain colors, different physical elements are used. Magnesium creates a bright white light, like that one right there. While strontium and lithium each showcase a different shade of red, like the first one we saw. But the most dangerous colors to form, blues and greens, are formed from barium and copper. 

Spencer’s explanation continues for a little longer. The view above the pair zooms out. They’re just two small people on the roof of the hospital. 

. . .

Spencer is in his apartment. He’s on the phone with Maggie. 

MAGGIE: So I’m looking at an apartment in Manassas right now. It’s only half an hour away from the school and it’s a 45 minute drive from your apartment. 

SPENCER: You’re not very good at changing the subject, Maggie. Even now, I can read your body language. 

MAGGIE: I’m not changing the subject. I’m just mentioning my other options that are unrelated to the one you proposed. 

SPENCER: Wow, is the idea of living with me really that bad?

MAGGIE: No! I would love to live with you. 

SPENCER: But?

MAGGIE: But you’ve already done so much. You’ve saved my life twice, visited me every week I’ve been in the hospital, made the Fourth of July fun again, and helped me find a great teaching job over there. So I am sincerely grateful, but moving in with you would feel like taking advantage of your good heart. You’ve done a lot for me already, okay? I can take care of myself from now on. 

SPENCER: Okay, think of it instead as a mutualistic relationship. We both receive net benefits from moving in. You wouldn’t be taking advantage of me because I’d be gaining something from it, too. I’d have a roommate and my rent would dichotomize. And for you, you’ll only be driving 15 minutes to work instead of 30. 

MAGGIE: Did you ever consider being a lawyer? You’re quite convincing. 

SPENCER: So is that a yes?

MAGGIE: It’s a “Yes I’ll move in with you but only if Plan A doesn’t pan out.”

SPENCER: Promise me you’ll think about it. 

MAGGIE: Okay, fine. I’ll think about it. 

SPENCER: Say it. 

MAGGIE: I promise. 

Spencer yawns. Maggie hears it. 

MAGGIE: What time is it over there?

SPENCER: 11:54. 

MAGGIE: Spencer! Why didn’t you tell me? You should’ve been asleep like two hours ago.

SPENCER: I’ll be fine. I don’t have to be at work until 7.

MAGGIE: You of all people know how bad it is to get less than 8 hours of sleep. I’m gonna hang up now so you can at least get 6. 

SPENCER: Then I’ll call back.

MAGGIE: Then I’ll decline. 

SPENCER: Fine, if I go to sleep, you have to agree to consider living with me as more than a Plan B.

MAGGIE: I already said I would! 

SPENCER: Mmm no. I’m not really feeling it. You have to say it nicely.  

MAGGIE: If you sleep now, I’ll consider living with you as more than a backup plan. 

SPENCER: Music to my ears. Sleep well, Maggie. 

MAGGIE: Sweet dreams, Spencer. 

Spencer lets Maggie hang up. Let it be known, that he has never once ended a call. 

. . .

It’s a few weeks later. Maggie’s finally out of the hospital. It’s official that she has the teacher job - no interview required thanks to Garcia. Currently, she and Spencer are packing the last of her things away into boxes in preparation for the cross country move she’s making tomorrow. 

MAGGIE: I know I’m still a little fragile, but the doctor said I’m all clear to resume normal activities. So would you please let me help you with the boxes?

SPENCER: Mmm, I don’t think so. 

MAGGIE: Need I remind you that I’ve been through worse than packing?

SPENCER: That would violate our designated jobs! I pack the boxes - you label them, remember? 

Spencer picks up a book from her shelf and reads the spine of it. From the looks of how empty the bookshelf is, he’s been packing away the books this entire time they’ve been packing.

SPENCER: By the way, I love your book collection. Very diverse. But the way you’ve organized them is peculiar, though. 

MAGGIE: What do you mean? Each shelf is categorized by genre. 

SPENCER: No, I figured that out, but why not in alphabetical order? Cause, see, you have several books from Dickens, but they’re sporadic on your shelves. And again with Austen and Steinbeck, you have several of their books, so organizing by last name means that all the books by the same author would be together. 

MAGGIE: Alright then, when I move, you can organize my bookshelf. 

SPENCER: Sweet!

MAGGIE: I was joki-

Maggie notices that Spencer actually takes pleasure in organizing her books, so she refrains from saying she’s joking. 

MAGGIE: Can I see a box? I forgot I have stuff on my fridge still to take down. 

SPENCER: Here. 

Spencer hands Maggie a box. Maggie begins to fill the box with her fridge magnets, postcards, and small reminders she put on her fridge. Only one picture is left on the fridge - a sonogram picture. Maggie had completely forgotten it was even there. But she drops the box immediately and pulls it off, placing it close to her chest. 

SPENCER: You okay?

Maggie pauses for a moment cherishing the picture. 

MAGGIE: Yeah.

SPENCER: What is it?

Spencer comes over. 

MAGGIE: I thought I threw this away, but I guess I didn’t. It was my first sonogram. 

SPENCER: Oh, from a few weeks ago?

MAGGIE: No - years ago. This is Elijah’s. 

Maggie smiles when she sees the picture. 

SPENCER: I think you should keep it - the picture I mean.

MAGGIE: Yeah, I think I might. I mean, if it’s stayed with me all these years, no sense in throwing it away now. 

Maggie puts the picture at the top of the pile in the box. 

. . . 

Maggie and Spencer are on the plane heading to Virginia. Reid’s reading and Maggie is sorting through some papers with an earbud in one ear.

MAGGIE: Before we left, I contacted the landlord for that apartment in Manassas weeks ago, but he never got back to me. 

SPENCER: I guess it’s a good thing you have a Plan B then. 

Spencer smirks. 

MAGGIE: Remind me again that we mutually benefit so I don’t feel so guilty that you’re constantly helping me but I can never find the opportunity to pay you back. 

SPENCER: Stop it, okay. I want you to move in with me. 

MAGGIE: I snore really loudly. 

SPENCER: Completely okay. 

MAGGIE: I take long showers. 

SPENCER: Not a problem. 

MAGGIE: Late at night, I’ll get random bursts of energy and get really hyper and bothersome. 

SPENCER: So do I. 

Maggie groans in frustration. 

MAGGIE: I feel like you know the reason why I don’t want to move in with you, but even I don’t know why. 

SPENCER: It’s quite simple actually. You’ve spent nearly a decade living alone. And because of that, you think you prefer isolation over having company. But in reality, you’re just scared. Because the last time you were surrounded by a lot of people, they eventually died, essentially abandoning you. And it might not seem like it, but I know exactly what that feels like. To be scared of abandonment. 

MAGGIE: Really?

SPENCER: When I was three, my dad left me and my mom. And a year ago, my girlfriend was shot in front of me.

Maggie’s speechless. 

SPENCER: You and I - we’re scared to let people in and get attached to them. The reason is because we’re afraid to suffer or let go. So, we think, in order to protect ourselves, we have to stay away from the people we’re getting attached to - which is hard because it is equivalent to avoiding the privilege of becoming happy. So we’re caught in the middle of which pain we’d rather endure - the pain caused by unhappiness and loneliness, or the pain that we know, nobody will ever be strong enough to stand against - the pain of letting go. 

Maggie’s astonished. 

MAGGIE: If our love could’ve saved them, they would’ve lived forever. 

A tear rolls down Maggie’s cheek. Spencer uses the pad of his thumb to brush it away. 

. . .

Maggie and Spencer are at the baggage claim of the Virginia Airport. Maggie yawns and leans into Spencer, who puts his arm around her and comfortingly rubs her. 

SPENCER: Tired?

MAGGIE: Extremely. 

SPENCER: We can get coffee on the way home. 

MAGGIE: Are you reading my mind right now?

Spencer laughs.

Maggie sees her suitcase come through on the conveyor belt. Maggie lifts her baggage up, and they begin to exit the airport. 

. . .

Spencer is driving and Maggie is in the passenger seat, trying to fight her sleepiness. 

SPENCER: Tell me about your parents. 

Maggie’s surprised by not unwilling. 

MAGGIE: My mom’s name was Amina. She met my dad, Sonny, in college, and had me when she was 24, but he took off when she got pregnant. At first, I didn’t mind it just being the two of us, but when I was seven, there was a father-daughter dance at my school. I wrote him a letter inviting him to it. He didn’t show up, of course. Not that I really expected him to, but ever since then, I’ve resented him. My mom used to say that he was the reason why I dated Charlie. She said that I never got to see an example of what a good man looks like or how a girl should be treated. In hindsight, she was totally right. 

SPENCER: How did she react to your pregnancy?

MAGGIE: Well, at first she said she was gonna slap Charlie, but she wasn’t even really mad at me. Instead, she just said that if I wanted to have a future and if I wanted the baby to have a good future, I should set up an adoption. Later that same year, she helped me file a restraining order on Charlie. My mom was always looking out for me. It felt like she always knew what the right choice was.

SPENCER: She sounds like a really good person. 

MAGGIE: And she was. I just wish I told her that more often. Growing up, I thought one day I’d get a job and become rich enough to support the both of us. I’d even buy her a range rover - it was a car she wanted since forever. I never got to do that for her, but she used to say to me, “Some people are so poor, all they have is money.” And I think about that everyday. I was never spoiled or born with a golden spoon, but we were so rich in love. She loved me so much, that she’s the reason I wanted to have a baby. Just days after her death anniversary, I visited the clinic. It’s silly, but I just wanted to be half as good a mother as she was.

SPENCER: I feel the same way about my mom. I wanted to grow up and create a cure for schizophrenia by the time I was 29. And even though I’m far from doing so, I’m not giving up hope that I still can. 

MAGGIE: Does she live here?

SPENCER: She’s in a facility in Vegas. 

MAGGIE: Well, if I ever find myself in Nevada, I’d really like to thank her for raising the perfect son. 

Spencer gaily smiles.

SPENCER: Would you maybe want to visit her with me one day?

Maggie nods.

SPENCER: You two would have a lot to talk about. She was a former professor of 15th century literature. 

MAGGIE: Does she still hold lectures?

SPENCER: She does. I attended one of them years ago. It completely changed my perspective. I realized that I owe all of who I am today to her. 

MAGGIE: Then we have to attend one of her lectures when we visit.

SPENCER: She’ll be so happy when I let her know. 

Maggie and Spencer continue to talk about literature. 

. . .

Now in a coffee shop, Maggie and Spencer are nursing their drinks at a table in the corner of the cafe. 

MAGGIE: Earlier, we were talking about your mom a lot, but on the plane, we spoke about your dad leaving when you were really little.

SPENCER: Yeah, um, eventually he wrote a letter saying that he just didn’t know how to be a dad to me anymore. That and he couldn’t deal with my mom’s paranoid schizophrenia anymore. 

MAGGIE: I’m sorry to hear that. I know it’s not easy growing up without a dad. 

SPENCER: He’s partly the reason I want to have kids. I want to be the dad mine never was.

Maggie nods. 

SPENCER: I’m not as mad as I used to be about it. Over time, I slowly stopped caring about him. 

MAGGIE: As you should. 

SPENCER: Um, we still have an hour before we’re home so-

MAGGIE: Yeah, no of course. Lemme just use the bathroom really quick before we go. 

Maggie leaves her phone and her coffee cup at the table. Spencer sips from his drink but stops when he sees Maggie’s phone ringing. The call’s number has a familiar area code. Spencer instantly recognizes it from Manassas. He realizes that the caller is the landlord from the apartment in Manassas that Maggie said hadn’t gotten back to her. He looks at the bathroom and sees Maggie isn’t back yet, so he declines and deletes the call. 

He wants Maggie to live with him, and knowing the landlord called her back would ruin any chances of that happening. And Spencer wasn’t taking any chances. 

. . . 

Maggie and Spencer are finally at his apartment. They’re climbing the flight of stairs, with Spencer carrying Maggie’s backpack for her - like a gentleman. When they reach his door, Spencer unlocks it and opens it for her to walk through first. In that same breath, confetti comes flying. 

Maggie is startled by this, but comes to realize that the entire BAU is in his apartment. A banner hangs behind the team saying “Welcome!”

She laughs and goes to greet each of them.

JJ: I’m JJ. 

Maggie shakes her hand. 

MAGGIE: Maggie Tate. Nice to meet you. 

MORGAN: Derek Morgan. I’ve heard a lot about you. 

MAGGIE: All good things I hope. 

HOTCH: Aaron Hotchner. 

MAGGIE: Right of course. I remember you from the day you guys found me. 

BLAKE: Alex Blake. Nice to finally meet you. 

MAGGIE: Likewise.

ROSSI: David Rossi. Spencer’s Italian grandpa. 

Maggie laughs and Rossi greets her by kissing each of her cheeks. 

ROSSI: Got any Italian blood in you?

MAGGIE: Oh, I wish. Half Filipino, half Mexican. 

ROSSI: A beautiful mix nonetheless. 

Finally, Maggie meets Penelope. Before Maggie can even say anything, Penelope envelopes her in a huge hug. 

MAGGIE: You must be Penelope!

She pulls away.

GARCIA: At your service. 

MAGGIE: I really like your glasses. Cool color. 

GARCIA: (to Spencer) I love her already. 

Maggie returns to Spencer after all the greetings.  

MAGGIE: Did you know they were gonna do this?

SPENCER: I might’ve. 

Maggie turns back to everyone.

MAGGIE: I wish I would’ve known I was meeting you all, I would’ve worn something nicer than leggings and jet lag. 

They laugh and tell her that it’s not a problem. 

GARCIA: So we thought you guys might be hungry, so there’s chips and guac as well as other little snacks. 

MAGGIE: It’s crazy, because I was craving just that.

Penelope gasps and smiles. She extends her arm for Maggie to wrap her arm around. 

GARCIA: Well then let’s dig in. 

Garcia leads Maggie arm in arm to the food. While Spencer draws back to set her things down. JJ waits up for him. 

JJ: She’s pretty. 

SPENCER: She is, isn't she? And she’s more than that, too. Everytime we talk, she never fails to surprise me with her wit or mind. She reminds me a lot of you. 

JJ smiles as Spencer and her rejoin the group. 

. . .

It’s almost the evening now, and Maggie and Spencer are bidding each guest goodbye. The last one to leave is of course Penelope. But when she does, Spencer and Maggie are alone again. Spencer shuts the door behind Garcia, and turns and presses his back to it and sighs. Maggie exhales too. 

SPENCER: I’m sorry about that. I didn’t think this would last for as long as it did. 

MAGGIE: No, no don’t apologize. I like spending time with them. I’m pretty sure Garcia’s energy cured my jet lag. 

Spencer laughs and walks back to Maggie.

MAGGIE: I think I’m gonna go shower now. Try to wash off the flight from me. 

Spencer nods and leads her to the bathroom. 

SPENCER: Just turn this knob to the left if you want it hotter, and to the right if you want cold water. When you’re done just press down on this. 

Spencer presses on the little knob, and when he does, the shower sprays him with water and sprays Maggie, too. She squeals and begins to laugh when she sees Spencer’s hair is drenched. It’s all stringy and in his face, so she pushes it back to see his smiling face. She leaves her hands around his cheeks, cupping his face. 

MAGGIE: Well that’s one way to get wet!

SPENCER: Oh yeah? What’s the other?

The delivery of his innuedo is so subtly seductive. Maggie dismisses it and laughs instead. 

MAGGIE: Um, just tell me where the towels are and I can bring you one to dry your hair. 

He points her in the direction and Maggie promptly leaves the bathroom. When she does, Spencer sees himself in the mirror and realizes just how ridiculous he looks. But on the inside, he feels doubly ridiculous. He’s so embarrassed from what he just said that his cheeks turn red. 

. . . 

Spencer is cleaning up what was left of the welcoming party. He’s in the kitchen, when he hears Maggie exit the shower. Her hair is damp and stringy, and she’s drying it with a towel. Spencer notices the clothes she’s wearing. She has on sweatpants and to his surprise, his shirt. 

MAGGIE: I forgot my pajamas were with the moving truck. I hope you don’t mind. 

SPENCER: Not at all. 

Maggie thanks him with a smile and walks a little more into the living room. She notices that the couch has a blanket and pillows on it. 

MAGGIE: What is this?

SPENCER: What do you mean?

MAGGIE: Are you gonna sleep out here?

SPENCER: Yeah, why?

MAGGIE: No. 

SPENCER: No what?

MAGGIE: No, you’re not sleeping on your couch in your own apartment. I won’t let you. 

SPENCER: It’s fine really. I’ve slept on it before. 

MAGGIE: Do you not want to share a bed?

SPENCER: No, it’s not about that. I just want you to have the bed to yourself. 

MAGGIE: If anything, I should be sleeping on the couch because I’m a guest.

SPENCER: No, I’m serious. I’ll sleep out here. 

MAGGIE: Okay fine. 

Maggie dramatically flops onto the couch. 

MAGGIE: Then I’ll join you. 

Spencer sighs and shakes his head. 

SPENCER: You’re really gonna sleep on the couch with me?

MAGGIE: Mhm. 

SPENCER: Why are you being so stubborn?

MAGGIE: Why are you being so stubborn?

SPENCER: Are you just gonna repeat what I’m saying?

MAGGIE: Are you just gonna repeat what I’m saying?

SPENCER: You’re acting childish. 

Spencer comes over to Maggie. He stands in front of her, towering over her small figure. 

MAGGIE: You’re acting childish. 

SPENCER: Stop repeating what I’m saying.

MAGGIE: Stop repeating what I’m saying. 

SPENCER: I mean it, Maggie!

She shoots up from the couch and makes a grumpy face to imitate Spencer. Their bodies are so close. 

MAGGIE: I mean it, Maggie!

Spencer takes the opportunity of their closeness and uses it to put his arms behind her back and swoop her up - bridal style. Maggie squeals and tries to squirm out of his arms, but he resists and carries her all the way into the bedroom. He tosses her onto the bed and starts to tickle at her sides. 

MAGGIE: Stop! Stop!

Maggie’s laughing so hard, she’s breathless. 

SPENCER: Not until you agree to sleep in the bed. 

MAGGIE: I want to sleep on the couch with you!

SPENCER: Well I guess I’m gonna keep tickling you then. 

Maggie laughs so hard she’s almost in tears. Suddenly, she sees a window of opportunity to escape. When she does she runs out into the living room. Spencer chases after her through the apartment. Maggie dodges some of his attempts to capture her, but is ultimately outrun by him. He gets her to fall flat on the couch as he hovers above her. Both of them are smiling and breathless. 

SPENCER: You’re not gonna give this up are you?

Maggie shakes her head no. 

SPENCER: Alright, I surrender. But if in the morning, you wake up and find that you’ve magically teleported to the bed after falling asleep on the couch, it wasn’t me. 

MAGGIE: Deal. 

. . .

It’s sometime late at night and Spencer has finished showering. Maggie’s traveling through his apartment and looking at everything closer. She notices he has a record player. And all the records are classical music.

MAGGIE: Interesting record collection. Beethoven, Mozart, and Bach. Why am I not surprised?

SPENCER: Am I that predictable?

MAGGIE: Just a little. Care if I try to expand your music taste? 

Maggie pulls out her phone. After some scrolling and typing, she begins to play “The Night We Met” by Lord Huron. Spencer is unfamiliar with this song, but it’s abundantly clear Maggie loves it. 

MAGGIE: Do you dance?

SPENCER: Oh, no, no. 

MAGGIE: Just dance with me. I’ll teach you. 

The song plays in the background as Spencer shyly approaches Maggie. Maggie puts one arm out and Spencer takes her hand. Then he timidly puts his hand on her back, but with confidence, Maggie slides his hand down to her waist. Maggie puts her hand on his shoulder. Promptly, Spencer and Maggie both peer down at their feet as Maggie leads the dance. She does the classic box step, and after fidgeting around, Spencer gets it. 

MAGGIE: There you go. You got it!

They dance a little more. 

MAGGIE: Do you think you can lead?

Spencer nods, and Maggie lets him lead. As the song reaches the chorus, Spencer finally gets his confidence. He doesn’t have to look down at his feet anymore. He finally looks at Maggie. To her surprise, Spencer spins her and dips her. They stay put in this position. Neither of them break eye contact.

MAGGIE: You sure you don’t dance?

Spencer sheepishly smiles and shakes his head. He brings her up from the dip. Maggie’s flustered from the thrill of dancing with him, so much so that she pulls away.

MAGGIE: So, did you um, did you like the song?

SPENCER: Yeah, I did. 

MAGGIE: You know, that, that could be like our song. 

SPENCER: Our song. Yeah, okay. 

. . . 

It’s the middle of the night now. Maggie is sprawled across the couch, asleep. Spencer is at the table reading. He only has one dim light on so as not to make it harder for Maggie to sleep with a bigger light on. He peers over the couch and sees that she’s sleeping so he picks her up and carries her bridal style again. When he lays her in the bed, she stirs and mumbles. 

MAGGIE: (quietly) Spencer?

SPENCER: (whispering) Sorry, I was trying not to wake you. 

MAGGIE: Can you just sleep in the bed? I don’t want you on the couch. 

SPENCER: Yeah, yeah. I’ll sleep on the bed. I’ll sleep soon, but I’m just gonna be outside reading. Goodnight, Maggie. 

Maggie’s already fallen fast asleep again. Spencer leaves the room, shutting the door behind her. 

As Spencer approaches the table, his reading material can be visibly seen. A thick stack of papers within a manila folder labeled “CONFIDENTIAL.” He opens it to resume reading the contents. On the very front, a scanned picture of a man’s driver’s license is paperclipped to another paper. The name on the driver’s license reads, “S.J Glover.” a.k.a Sonny Jr. Maggie’s dad. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

[ashes-in-a-jar]

Tma relisten Episodes 6-10

(Still really long)

Alot of really important details that are going to be very relevant later on. Very facinating how early on you find these out. Relistens are good.

Episode 6 squirm

It's a good thing tma doesn't do much of sexual encounters and their connection to entities. While I'm sure that's a thing that in any realistic universe would exist avoiding it was a good choice. This statement was *shudder*

Interesting that she had no visible mark on her. Also being repulsed by police stations because the sectioned officers could have helped.

Naked in the streets after lighting his apartment on fire. What an image.

So technically the worms were in the archives 3 times: when Jane made her first statement, when Timothy hodge made his and when Jane attacked. The worms are very familiar with the magnus institute.

"This story is concerning. Not because of Mr. Hodge’s experience, although I’m sure it was very upsetting." ace Jon talking very technical about "experiences"

" though obviously it’s a tragic loss of life, etcetera, etcetera." Jon being Jon.

Ecdc are aware of Jane and corruption typical attacks which is off the bat interesting world building.

He's skeptic here because of lack of evidence but does admit the existence of a threat in Jane Prentiss

Also! He knows of her from before probably when he was a researcher. This confused me on first listen because I was trying to remember if she was ever mentioned before this. But she wasn't.

Episode 7 the piper

Wilfred kind of sounds like martin in some way but maybe it's just me assigning poetry to anyone like him.

But he hated apathy which might be very Martin like

Gentle sadness and creeping fear from the music. For violence of war... Is that what it means to immortalize it?

It's really cool that the concept of music in this podcast is associated specifically with war and unwarranted violence. There's a very strong statement in there somewhere that needs to be explored.

God this statement was intense. Lying for such a long time in that trench surrounded by violent death. But what's most interesting is that this statement doesn't feel like a supernatural one and yet... The piper was with Wilfred throughout the various battles and bouts of violence until the moment it was officially over. But in a very subtle way.

The description of the piper is really intense with the 3 faces. I think I missed it the first time but hearing that representation of war and fear is something I'm going to look for in artistic depictions now.

Wait. Who is Joseph Rayner? I know of Maxwell but never heard of Joseph.a victim instead of Wilfred? Collaborator with the Slaughter? Hmmm

I wonder how Accidental it was that the statement from 1922 was filed in the 2000s. Maybe to show that the piper never really leaves and the war never really ends. Ever.

Episode 8 burned out

Wow Hilltop Road already! I forgot how many of the first episodes were so important to the plot later on.

"That side of the road backed onto South Park with fences marking the bottom of each garden." this is wrong btw. Hilltop Road in Oxford does not run along Sount Park but is perpendicular to it, meeting it in the corner with Divinity Road which meets with Morrell Avenue which is the road running along South Park. Just FYI because I had to look this up to get a good picture. But I guess Morrell doesn't sound as exciting as Hilltop (which isn't even at the top of the hill smh)

Ivo lensik describes Raymond fielding as white which makes me automatically think he is not. Just a thought that popped in my mind.

Huh. His family had a history of schizophrenia. And his dad was obsessed with fractals. Being followed by The spiral (all the bones are in his hands) was also part of this story really interesting.

Agnes had mousy brown hair and looked like Raymond! Not red hair ( at least at first) like I pictured. Also she was a hell of a creepy child...

So did he time travel? Seeing the moments of Raymond's end? Seems like time doesn't work right in that place anyway.

Web person being devout church goer is also an interesting touch

Father Edwin Burroughs! I forgot he was here too! The knock reminded me of Mr Spider *shiver*

The priest explaining that the church exorcized demons but what not decisive if ghosts exist was hilarious. Jon dismisses paranormal but asks Martin if he's a ghost is opposite of the church.

Hmmm the web pushing him to cut the tree to uncover box from antique table...

Apple full of spiders ugh. Maybe something web was trapped in there by Desolation and ivo managed free it as Agnes was dying.

"We cannot prove any connection, but Martin unearthed a report on an Agnes Montague, who was found dead in her Sheffield flat on the evening of November 23rd 2006, the same day Mr. Lensik claims to have uprooted the tree." wow that's an obscure thing to find well done Martin!

Jon still looks for credence for this story despite the schizophrenia that could leave him skeptical.

"while I trust Mr. Lensik’s testimony of his own experiences about as far as I can throw a bleeding tree," again Jon with his special brand of jokes.

Episode 9 a Father's love

The Montauk's story! I always thought their family had one of the most tragic ones. The hunt is a really cruel patron with its forced hunger and having other entities use them as tools.

Julia telling the truth of the story to the Magnus Institute instead of the police is also heartbreaking. How desperate and alone she must have felt drowned in that awful literally unbelievable story. The magnus institute feeds off of those people too.

So many of the hunt end up in police it's just... Such a strong statement against that establishment. What do we do to make that less of a horrible, unjust, all consuming system? That feeds on the hunger of some and the abject fear of others? And it doesn't have to be supernatural. It's interesting how season five, of all seasons, is the one that gave us that perspective. The non supernatural one on the subject while the world itself is so far away from the natural. God everything about this idea is so heavy and painful.

I kind of hate Julia's fate because of her background and how much alot of its beginning was out of her control. It's like Daisy. The hunt can never be forgiven no matter how compulsive it is.

The dark that took her mother turned her into part of it? Like the dark liquid?

A dark room to develop his photos of his victims huh? A play on words here.

Oooh they put a heartbeats in the soundscape really cool actually.

So Montauk killed other dark members that tried to leave? For the ritual? Like Julia's mother?

The hunt compelled him to keep the hearts as trophies? which is very self destructive of the hunt to do. Or is it part of the dark ritual with the sacrifices that the heart had to be kept?

I think Montauk was trying to slow down the ritual as revenge that night, rendering the sacrifices he helped create useless. Which is why pitch came after them that night and dissappeared once Montauk finished his ritual.

Sourcing the Serial killer enthusiast community. Love that the archives use whatever source of info they can access.

So Maxwell dissappeared in 1994 from public eye land yet the cult kept working towards a ritual. But now in secret? Their timeline always confused me.

Episode 10 vampire killer

I never noticed Trevor came right after Julia! Oooh this is so much connecting the dots so early on!

Vampires are so disturbing here makes you ever wonder how the hell media like twilight were ever created. But hehe the monster ****er community has always been a vibrant one. Not these vampires tho.

Trevor is so sassy I love his statements. Like Julia it really makes me sad how consumed he became at the end and how awful his death was. Once again the tragedy of the Hunt.

"I taught myself to read, I read as much on the subject as I could, and it isn’t covered often or clearly in those books I have found." can you imagine what kinds of books he might have found during the sexy vampire Era? This is a hilarious picture to paint.

So vampires feed off of blood and not fear which is an interesting creature to have in this kind of universe. Although hunters are also like that but there is still alot of fear and awareness involved with that while the vampires try to conceal themselves until the last moment.

There's alot of mosquito imagery in these vampires which is... Ugh

Also interesting how many time Trevor just uses the vampire's full name. Never shortened and never talked about in another title. Sylvia McDonald this Sylvia McDonald that. Also the other vampire. They always had a name that was psychicly imposed on the victims to be remembered fully. Very Stranger behavior.

Ahhhh the one vampire weakness... Drrrugs.

It's also very flammable which sets interesting precedence to setting unnatural things on fire to make them disappear.

Alard dupont comes in a later statement right? Yeah in 56

Martin was there when the statement was given which was 2010 and in 2016 he's 29 so he worked there for a while! At least since age 23 perhaps we'll find out even earlier. And he was still scared to be found under qualified after all this time! Oof...

I wonder how draining it is to give a statement that it kills someone who is sick.

The government is in on this! Looking for the teeth Trevor gave the institute... Somehow that strikes me as hilarious in the world building of this podcast. And it really leaves Jon no choice but to concede that there is something to the statement even if he refuses to use the term vampire like Trevor did so freely.

[lifebeginsbyleaving]

Accidental Amnesia Amnesty

Hello, this is for sterek bingo 2020. I have so many other ideas planned and a few other prompts written so I’m excited to finally be posting them!!! I used the tags mistaken identity and full shift werewolves.(I also used fake relationship, but forgot to say.) So this fic changes some of canon, but everything before the cop car scene and everything after the end of the third episode is canon. I tried to make it fit as well as I could, but this is my first time sticking to canon so closely so I might've missed something. Thanks for reading!!!

All he had to do was not run into Melissa. Easy as pie.

"Stiles?"

Shit.

He spun around with a grin as his jacket flapped in his hand. "Hey Mels bells!"

She squinted in confusion at him. "What are you doing here?"

Stiles scratched his arm and scrambled for an answer. "Well as you know, Scott and I are very close. Arguably the closest. Best friends and all. I was just wondering if you've seen him around?"

She looked at him disbelievingly. "You came here, to my work, to ask where Scott is?"

Stiles took a moment to consider. "Yeah. Sure. I mean, absolutely."

"And you didn't think to, I don't know, call first? Or check the house where Scott would most likely be? And last I knew, usually always is right about now?"

"You know, I should've. I guess it just slipped my mind." Stiles tried to look not guilty as he discreetly hid his bloodied hands and jacket behind himself.

She looked at him for a moment. "Right. Okay, you are going to stay right here and I'm going to call your dad."

Stiles startled. "Oh that's not-"

"Save it mister. I don't know what you're up to, but I have patients to deal with so I can't figure it out. Sit down."

Fuck. Stiles went and sat down to await his doom.

His dad was going to be so pissed. Lately Stiles had been butting into cases a lot. Every time he mentioned something he figured out he saw how much stress he was causing his father by him not staying out of it, but there was this buzzing. This feeling that never left him, not even in sleep, that something was coming. Something big and changing. Something that would hurt the ones he loved if he didn't figure it out. With his very recently widened world view to involve the supernatural, it added even more weight to the feeling. It was this indescribable itch at the back of his mind that only seemed scratched when he was figuring out his father's cases before he could get hurt. But he couldn't explain any of that to his father, so he just played it off as the nosey kid.

His father tried multiple times to keep him away from it, and it worked once his father had been reported. Some jackass told his superiors that Stiles was poking around some old files and now he had a lady from the FBI questioning his every move.

Stiles knew he should just let it go, let it all blow over, but there was something about this. This case. This week. This feeling.

This feeling wasn't just him fearing for his life. This feeling wasn't him wondering if he'd make it through his high school years. This feeling wasn't him worrying about his dad getting shot stopping some punk knocking over a liquor store. This feeling he had didn't even go away once Scott was bit, it wasn't that simple. This feeling wasn't just about his best friend suddenly becoming a creature of the night. This feeling wasn't just one simple thing. This feeling was everything.

This feeling told him that everything before now was what was leading up to something, and everything after would never be the same again. This was Scott and werewolves and there was something about Derek. Something he couldn't figure out. This feeling told him that it was important, it was all important. This feeling told him no matter what, he had to figure it out.

Stiles didn't like not knowing, not being able to trust what he saw.

Looking down at his hands and the blood caked on them he wasn't sure he could trust what he just saw. He didn't know if he could trust the memory because everything just happened so fast.

One moment he was in trouble with his father because he found yet another crime scene, the other half of the body, and the next his father's boss was questioning both of them. Soon enough he slipped away and into the unobserved police car to speak with Derek Hale, well more like accuse. Then he was being pulled back out by his father and getting yelled at while the sheriff looked nervously over at the woman raising an eyebrow and looking more and more sure. His father told Scott to stay so he could talk to him, most likely express disappointment.

He heard chatter as he walked back to his car about how they had a more nailed down date of death, it had been a day earlier than they thought.

Soon enough, he was starting Roscoe and watching the patrol car taking Derek away, along with all the answers. The buzzing, the feeling, was back. The next second he was shifting into gear and following behind the car.

The next hour happened in the blink of an eye.

He was thinking about how the girl/wolf was buried then, there was a big, snarling blur and the patrol car was shoved off the passing bridge.

Stiles swerved to the shoulder before the bridge.

By the time he was looking down to the bottom of the stream, Derek was dragged from the car.

By- by something Stiles couldn't believe. Scott being a werewolf was one thing. That- that hulking scarred beast with hollow red eyes was another.

Stiles stood frozen in the flash of movements as the monster bashed Derek's head against a rock and raked his claws down him as he fought. His hands trembled as the monster's claws dug into the back of Derek's neck and Derek's arms went slack, he stopped grappling with the beast's terrible paws.

It's giant jaws cracked open and it spoke, horrifying Stiles further.

"Forget or you will die like her. You will die like your sister."

Stiles' mind raced to the bat in his Jeep.

He scrambled to get it and in doing so he brushed the string of flowers he had taken from around the body.

A truly stupid idea flashed in his mind as he remembered an article about wolfsbane.

He saw the flower wrapped rock sail and for once his aim was good enough.

It landed with a similar thud as the stone in Stiles' belly as the beast looked down at it then directly into his eyes.

It tilted it's head and sniffed the air, and still he knew this fear, this pants pissing fear, wasn't the feeling he was dreading.

In the blink of an eye he couldn't see the glowing red anymore, but he could still see the stare even as he clamped his eyelids shut.

When he opened them again he saw red, trembling red. The overhead system called out for a doctor of some sort, but all he heard was the sickening crack of skull against rock.

Over- Crack! And over- Crack! And over- Crack! And over- Crack! And over- Cra-

Stiles bolted up and ran.

He threw open the bathroom door and began scrubbing at the blood coloring the swirling cold water. No matter how hard he cleaned his hands it seemed more blood kept pouring onto them.

Two men walked in while talking.

"-Hale is in stable condition."

Stiles was brought out of his thoughts and cycle of seeing himself fail at holding the blood inside Derek's body.

"I don't know how he made it. That kid is a miracle. Some of the injuries weren't as bad as originally thought. Gave the EMTs a real scare with all the blood, I heard. And he's not even in the ER any more, he's in 309. You should see th-"

Stiles was out the door in an instant.

He knew exactly where the room was.

As he went by Melissa, thankfully distracted by an urgent patient, he hid until he could dart around the corner.

He tried to as calmly as possible, run to the room.

Once outside he barged right in. His father wouldn't be here yet, but there wasn't any time to waste. He would be soon.

Looking at the pale man in front of him, everything stood at a stand still. He stared at him and thought for what felt like hours.

What if he woke up? What was he supposed to say? 'Hey, you know I hope you don't hold it against me that I accused you of murder.'

Oh God. Stiles had a fear inducing idea.

If the murdered woman was a werewolf, what if she was murdered by that beast? And Derek was a werewolf too, did that mean- the murdered lady was Derek's sister, and the one the beast was talking about? Stiles accused him of murdering his sister?!

Holy shit.

He so didn't kill his sister. He wasn't the alpha. He wasn't the threat. Or maybe he was. If he was a werewolf he could still be a threat.

Stiles studied him.

Right then he didn't look like a threat. He didn't look scary. Hell, he didn't even look like a werewolf. He looked- broken. And scared, and hurt. And my god Stiles had never seen someone look so sad in the peacefulness of sleep.

It made him wonder if he laid his hand over his if it would comfort him, if he was the type of sad that meant he was just lonely. He looked at Derek and remembered the papers and stories.

His own face twisted in sorrow.

He looked at his prone healing form and knew.

Derek was the type of sad that knew loss. He knew it better than he knew himself to the point that who he was might as well have been added to the body count of people lost to him.

Stiles ached for the man he, up until moments ago, thought and accused of murdering his own sister.

He came closer and stood next to his bed.

The feeling felt wrapped up with Derek some how. Like he was vital to figuring it all out.

He lifted a hand to offer comfort.

The monitors beeped faster and Stiles looked over at them.

When he went to check Derek's face his eyes were open, and glowing electric blue.

"Jesus!" Stiles ripped his hand back.

He looked confused, and alert. "Where am I?"

"Warn a guy!"

"Where am I?"

Stiles huffed. "Where do you think genius? The hospital."

"Why am I here?" He still looked confused, but more calm.

Stiles frowned. "You don't remember the accident? Or the-"

"I was in an accident? Were you there?" Derek's eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "You were there right? You held my head and cried and cursed the ambulance for taking so long."

He paused.

"Who are you?"

Stiles was taken aback. He squinted. "Derek?"

Derek looked at him with a contemplative look, then looked at the tubes going into him with concern. "Who's Derek?"

Stiles didn't have time to process his shock as the door swung open and his father marched in.

"Stiles?!" His father looked furious. "Mieczysław Genim Stilinski!"

Derek's eyes went wide.

Stiles quickly grabbed his hands to cover his claws.

His father took a brief pause at the hand holding, but quickly schooled his face.

Stiles winced. "Hi Dad?" He felt Derek's claws retract.

His dad turned to the woman with him.

"Save it Sheriff. I see the complaints about your gross disregard for procedure by involving your son aren't unfounded. Pray, do tell me there is a reasonable explanation why your own son is in the room with a murder suspect? After the body, the second half that is, I only needed one more reason for your review. It seems now I have one."

Stiles' wide eyes quickly became hard with determination.

Derek looked at him and immediately knew what ever came out of his mouth was going not going to end well, despite knowing him for less than three minutes.

"I have a perfectly reasonable explanation."

His father covered his face with his hand and his shoulders raised to tense against the incoming response.

"Derek is my boyfriend."

Stiles' face was filled with conviction, but the the other three surrounding him went wide with shock.

The sheriff's hand fell from his face as he gaped at his son, but soon enough he turned to Derek. Gone from his gaze was the confusion, now all that was there was a murderous edge as he stared right into Derek's soul.

Derek swallowed and turned to Stiles. "We are?"

The confusion was back ten fold.

"Stiles if this is one of your tricks or schem-"

"Derek doesn't remember anything." Stiles blurted.

All eyes turned to Derek.

That wasn't true. He remembered waking to pain and someone holding him in their lap. Repeating over and over, 'You're going to be okay. We're okay.' He remembered shiny brown eyes and moles. He remembered the hammering of a heart that some how calmed his own as he faded in and out of consciousness. He remembered holding a hand as his body felt like it had been drained of too much to recover from. He remembered thinking he had to hold on, or maybe he was told that.

He remembered having an anchor to reach for.

He remembered all of that but he kept quiet.

The sheriff once again turned to him. "Is that right?"

Derek tried to clear his dry throat. "Which part, sir?"

He fixed him with a hard glare. "Both."

Derek looked to Stiles and considered. He didn't remember anything, so he didn't know if what he said was true. Stiles turned away from his father to look into his eyes and he gave him a very meaningful look as squeezed his hand. Like, 'Hey, agree with everything I say please!'

He looked at him and he couldn't muster up love. When he had looked at the sheriff he felt fear and respect, but looking at Stiles there was no love or even adoration. There was something there though, it felt like he trusted him. He didn't know if it was his face or his eyes, or maybe even that the only memories he had included him.

He turned back to answer honestly. "I don't remember anything before I woke up, and I don't know if we are together. I didn't even know my own name before he told it to me."

The woman spoke up. "I'm sorry wait a second, weren't you the one that found the body. Then you reported Mr. Hale? You reported your own boyfriend?"

Stiles looked at her and narrowed his eyes. "Wouldn't you report your boyfriend if you thought he murdered a lady? I was raised by a cop, not a monster."

His dad came farther into the room and showed obvious unease and pointed looks towards where their hands were still intertwined. "So why are you here now? If Derek really did murder that lady-" He gave Stiles a firm, but consoling look. "I will find out. And he will go to prison."

Stiles felt Derek tense, so Stiles tightened his grip. "He didn't. He didn't kill her."

The FBI agent gave him a cutting look.

His father pushed out a breath as he shook his head. "Kid, you're killin me here. You just told me he did. We literally just came from the crime scene you found and told us he did it."

Stiles set his shoulders. "And now I'm untelling you. Some new information came to light."

Stiles saw the glint of light that every once and awhile reflected off of his father's badge and into his eyes. "New information? Who's your source?"

"I am."

His father gave him a dubious look. "We can hardly take the word of a teenager over evidence. You, yourself found the other half of the body on his property! Stiles you're not dumb, look at the evidence. You might think you care for him and want to protect him, but we can't disregard evidence on the word of a significant other." It looked like every time he had to refer to their relationship, it pained him. "Much less an easily manipulated teenager with an older boyfriend." He gave a pointed, murderous look to Derek. "Which will be dealt with."

Derek turned to Stiles and now that he was more focused he could see the obvious youth that the curiosity in his eyes had hid before.

Stiles stood considering for a moment, then he let go of Derek's hand to face his father. "I know he didn't do it because on the way out I heard Ella say the time of death was a day earlier than you thought."

His father once again looked disappointed. "Stiles what does tha-"

"And he was with me that day."

The FBI agent looked skeptical. "The entire day?"

Stiles addressed her. "I went to school that Thursday, but he saw me right away after. And the medical examiner, Ella, said she didn't die till later at night anyway."

His father once again looked harsh and his face darkened. "How late did he stay?"

Stiles closed his eyes and hoped he wasn't pulling Derek out of the frying pan and into the fire. He looked into his father's eyes. "I knew you'd get off at four, so he left at three. So there was no way he could've killed her."

Derek looked shocked at the new information.

Stiles nervously went to scratch at his head with his still shaking hands and in doing so, brought his flannel away from his body.

The homicidal look his father had melted instantly into one of worry. "Is that blood?!"

Stiles looked down to his t-shirt where a spot of drying blood was causing his shirt to stick to his body. Stiles quickly pulled his hand back down so his flannel would cover it once again.

His father rapidly approached him and ripped his flannel away to inspect the large stain.

Stiles pushed his hands away. "Dad I'm fine."

He quickly grabbed Stiles' hands and looked at the blood still wedged under his nails and he pulled the almost dripping jacket from him.

He looked up with wide frightened teary eyes. "Where? Where does it hurt son?" His voice was commanding despite how it shook.

"I'm fine."

He shook his head and grabbed Stiles' arm.

He looked at the FBI agent as he walked past. "Watch the suspect." He thought to himself, 'So I can murder him later.'

Stiles was protesting being drug behind, but his father simply yelled out a very loud, distraught, "Melissa!"

Stiles saw her look to them right before he was shoved into a different room.

"Sit."

"I'm f-"

His eyes were wild. "If you say you're fine one more God damn time, I'm gonna lose it Stiles! Why the hell are you covered in blood with shaking hands then?"

Melissa came in with a concerned look. "What is it John?"

John just pointed where Stiles was standing near the bed before speaking, "Fix him." He backed away to give her space.

"I'm alright, you don't have to worry."

She turned to Stiles with a puzzling look, but as she scanned him she caught sight of the blood and her eyes went wide just like his father's had. "Oh my god!"

"It's okay."

She ripped his shirt up and away and in her panic she smoothed her bare hand through the blood. She searched for a moment longer and then turned to John. "There's nothing wrong with him."

"I told you I wa-"

His father started to pace and gesture as he talked, "No. No, you fix him! You find what's wrong. He's lying, or hiding it. I don't care if you have to strip him naked like you used to for bath time with Scott! You find what's wrong with my boy! I don't know what's wrong. He hid it from me, I didn't know he was hurting!" He looked at her with a mixture of desperation and concern. "He's covered in blood and he needs to be okay. You need to take my boy and make him okay! My boy is hurt Melissa." His voice broke as he said the last sentence.

Stiles grabbed Melissa's arm and looked into her eyes. "Go back to work, I have to talk with him. I promise you I'm fine."

She nodded, already knowing he was, and left.

"Dad."

His father came near as the door closed and once again his shirt was pulled up.

Stiles placed a hand on top of his. "It's not my blood."

His father looked at him bewildered.

Stiles sighed. "I followed the police car. I was there when the accident happened." He hesitated for a moment. "I didn't see the driver or the truck's plate number, I just saw a big black blur hit the car off the bridge from the side." He took some solace in the fact that at least that part was true. "They drove away as soon as they realized they hit something."

His dad still had a crease of worry in his forehead.

Stiles thought quickly on his feet as he pieced together his story. "I heard Ella on the way out and figured out that it wasn't Derek. So I followed the car to get everything straightened out at the station. But then the accident happened. I went down to check on him and there was just so much. It's not my blood, it's- it's his. I tried- I got there as soon as I could." Stiles thought about the blood pouring and  how the only reason Derek was even in that car was because of him and his eyes began to tear up. "There was so much blood dad. It was everywhere. I- I tried- I thought he would die-" His tears started to spill. "God I was so worried he would die in my arms- that he would die and it would be my fault."

His dad shook his head, but he just continued, "I turned him in for something he didn't do. I put him in that car. I-I - I would've been the reason he died." Stiles' words began to blur together as he spoke faster. "I would've been the one that killed him. His blood would've be- God the blood. There was so much blood. It was everywhere. The blood." Stiles' ears started to ring as he looked down at his hands and felt the sticky warmth he had washed off. "The blood dad. The blood dad. The blood. The blood." Stiles couldn't breathe.

His father pulled him into his arms. "Calm down son. Breathe. In and out. He's fine. You hear me? Derek is fine. You're fine too, you're here. With me. It wasn't your fault. You're gonna be okay. Just breathe for me boy."

"I- I can't. T-T-the blood. The b-b-blood dad."

His father pulled back out of the tight hug and gripped his hands. "Look Stiles. Look at your hands. There's no more blood here."

Stiles tried to focus on his hands and his father kissed his knuckles with teary eyes. "There's no blood Stiles. He's okay."

Stiles focused on his father's hands entwined with his and he tried to calm his breaths.

A few moments passed as he struggled with his lungs.

He nodded to his father and they both exhaled loudly.

Stiles crumpled in exhaustion and his father guided him to the floor as he pulled him back into himself. The sheriff rested his back against the nightstand and Stiles settled in between his legs.

The sheriff hooked Stiles' head underneath his chin. "We're going to have to talk about you and Derek, but right now I just want to know you're safe and out of trouble."

His voice was a soft mumble, "You can't protect me forever. I know it's your job, but sometimes I'm going to do things you don't like. That you think are too risky, but it's just me living my life."

The sheriff closed his eyes and felt a bone deep sorrow. "God, your mom would know what to do, because all I want to do is go into that room and shoot him. FBI be damned, he- he touched my boy."

Stiles internally freaked out and shook his head. He couldn't get Derek off a murder charge by setting him up for sexual assault of a minor charge when he hadn't done either. "No. He never- we never- Derek would never do that. We kept in touch long distance and when he came here that night was the only night I was able to see him. We just played video games and talked. I've never even kissed him."

The sheriff let out a relieved breath. "That still doesn't change the fact that he is twenty-three and you are sixteen." He could tell Stiles was about to say something. He thought about how upset Stiles got when he mentioned Derek being hurt. "But, I can tell how much you care about him. I am in no way condoning this. I am not okay with you being together, at all. I want this relationship to stop immediately. But I do see your care, so I won't kill him."

He tried for a joke, but they both knew if he ever found out that anything had happened he wouldn't hesitate.

"Okay."

"Okay."

They sat in silence for a moment longer.

Stiles worried at his lip and curled his fingers into his uniform. "Hey Dad?"

"Yeah?"

He decided not to look up at him. "Do you care? I mean I know you've said- but like sometimes it's different when it happens you know?"

"What are you talking about?" He asked with fondness.

"Do you care that he's..."

The sheriff pulled him tighter to his chest. "No. Don't you ever think that. If Derek was a nice boy your age and not a murder suspect I'd be inviting him to Sunday dinner. I don't care what your sexuality is- hell me and Melissa have a bet going of when you and Scott will get married. I don't care if you date boys instead."

Stiles relaxed slightly. "And if I want to date girls too?"

"I love you Stiles. Who you love won't change that." His father kissed the top of his head.

"I love you too pops."

They both basked in the comfort of the other for a few more moments.

"Alright we should get up. You have a lacrosse game later and I'll have plenty of paperwork I'm sure. Plus we have to take your statement, I don't know if it will clear his name though. His amnesia complicates things. Besides my back is getting sore."

"Will you need help getting up old man?"

His father pinched his side. "Oh it's like that is it?"

"Sorry I couldn't hear you over the creaking of your bones."

Stiles jumped up and away as his father swatted at him. The sheriff held out a hand and Stiles helped him up with a smile.

Stiles went for the door.

"There's still something you're keeping from me."

His heart sank.

"I don't know if it has to do with Derek or his sister or what, but Stiles you don't have to lie to me. No matter how grown you get it will always be my job, and my highest priority to protect you. I could never lose you."

Stiles nodded his head. "Yeah I know that Dad. I could never lose you either."

Stiles turned the knob and they walked out.

With all the questions his father and the FBI agent had for him Stiles was only able to catch back up with Scott right before the game.

He had decided not to tell Scott anything so he could focus on the game more. He decided it was a problem for another time. Now he needed to make sure Scott didn't shift or kill anybody.

The game went smoothly, well as smoothly as it could've. Stiles was just glad everybody was alive and Mr. Argent hadn't shot Scott.

Everything was great till his father got a call. Ella determined that the cause of death for Derek's sister was an animal attack. Stiles was relieved he was let go, but he knew he had to let Scott know. He wasn't looking forward to that.

Stiles didn't have enough information, and he definitely didn't want to get Scott involved in something he didn't know enough about.

He only told Scott that Derek was let go and he tried to push it from his mind.

He felt bad not taking to Derek after he had lost all of his memories and Stiles had claimed to be in a relationship, but his father was serious. If he so much as heard Stiles and Derek were in the same room as each other he would arrest him.

It was as forgotten as it could be, until Scott had a dream about killing Allison.

Scott wondered about maybe having Derek teach him and with his current state Stiles had to shut it down.

It only worked until Scott saw the man from the bus. Stiles tried to convince him to keep on like normal, to not do anything drastic till they could find out more. He convinced him to not cancel his, now group date, with Allison and to act normal.

But Stiles knew his best friend. If there was a chance Scott would hurt Allison and that Derek could help him not, he would take it.

That's why Stiles was disobeying direct orders from his father and parking Roscoe on the abandoned Hale property. He exhaled heavily. Best to get this over with.

The Jeep door creaked and slammed behind himself.

Derek quickly came out of the front door with a small smile already on his face.

"Scott is going to be here after he gets off work and he can't find out that you don't know shit."

Derek's eyebrows fell, but his lips quirked into a small amused smile. "Are you always this blunt and blatantly disrespectful of social decorum?"

He didn't even stop to be offended or consider. "Yes. We need to make a plan. He can under no circumstances know."

Derek easily jumped on board. "What does that mean? What can't he know?"

"He can't know that you don't know stuff. We went over this, keep up. We don't have all night." Stiles fidgeted.

Derek nodded. "Okay." He opened his door more. "Then you better come in and explain some things. Like who Scott is."

Stiles looked distrustful and unease set his shoulders.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just you well, you you is way more grumpy usually."

Derek frowned. "I'm grumpy to my boyfriend?"

Stiles' eyes widened for a second. He had forgotten about that for a moment. "You're grumpy to pretty much everybody, dude." They walked inside the house and he shut the door behind them.

Derek took a second to think as Stiles checked out the house.

Stiles spoke suddenly, "Oh! Yeah, don't forget to do that with Scott. Be grumpy, slightly mean, and entirely intimidating. Like you eat infants for breakfast."

"I act like I eat infants for breakfast?" He looked displeased.

Stiles didn't think before answering consolingly, "But in a hot way."

Derek opened his mouth and then shut it. He avoided eye contact and Stiles swore his cheeks turned light pink.

Stiles realized what he had said and cursed internally for when Derek remembered everything. That reminded him. He should ask how he's been, but first he had to figure everything with Scott out.

He told him everything that had happened so far. The game, Derek trying to help Scott, them accusing him of murdering his sister, assuring him he didn't kill his sister, the hunters, about Allison and her father, why Scott couldn't know about them dating, and especially about Scott's dream. Everything he thought Scott might talk about he covered.

Stiles took a few deep breaths after his info dump. "Any questions?"

Derek looked uncertain. "What happened with the accident?"

Stiles had left that part out, he didn't know if he could talk about it. Derek smelled the fear, and anxiety.

"We don't have to talk about it if you can't."

Stiles took a deep breath. "Nah dude, it's fine. I was following the patrol car when it hit you. This big- well I still don't really know what it was, but it was terrifying. It dragged you out of the car and- and it hit your head." Stiles' face looked confused. "Then it dug it's claws into the back of your neck. It-it looked up at me and-"

As Derek watched Stiles talk he got a distant look in his eyes. Derek reached out a hand and held onto his shoulder.

Stiles' eyes immediately snapped to his and there was a flash of fear before it melted to appreciation. Stiles took in a few breaths and continued more steadily, "It looked up at me after I threw a rock wrapped in wolfsbane at it. It said, 'Forget or you'll die like your sister.' I think it took your memories somehow. Whatever that beast was took them for a reason. You must've known something that it didn't want you too. I think whatever it took will be important. And it will be important to keeping Scott safe, so I'll help you try to remember. I think it had something to do with your sister. I think that thing hurt her and doesn't want you to figure out why. But even that doesn't make complete sense, why not kill you?"

Stiles was looking at the other side of the room with searching eyes that Derek could almost look through to see the cogs moving. He pulled his bottom lip into his mouth in consideration and pulled Derek's focus with it.

He released his shiny red lip and Derek looked back to his eyes dazed. "And this thing with Scott. His dream. The person that attacked the bus driver wasn't Scott, no matter what happened to him I know he would never. Well, I hope. I don't think it was you, but I guess I don't know that for sure. However, this beast, the thing from the accident could've done it. It's the most likely suspect, but I still don't see the motive. Or why Scott is involved. Maybe this thing knew he was a werewolf and wanted something. There's just too many blanks right now. We need more evidence. We need to figure out what, or even more terrifying, who the beast is. We need to find out what it wants with your memories and wanted from your sister and what it wants with Scott. All the while keeping the police, namely my dad, oblivious. Also Scott and you both have to stay away from hunters and not provoke them in anyway until we can figure out more. And Allison. We can't let Scott hurt her. I know my best friend, he would never kill her, but he did attack me, so may-"

Derek looked alarmed. "He attacked you?!"

"Yeah. It was soon after he was bitten though. He's gotten a bit better. I don't think he would attack Allison, but I won't bet her life on it. You need to help him."

Derek furrowed his brows. "How? I don't remember anything, much less have any of the answers to things."

Stiles started to pace. "Okay. You have better control than Scott. Even now. How are you doing it? Scott said it's getting more difficult the closer it gets to the full moon so how are you doing it?"

Derek looked down at his fingers. He had noticed that he had been feeling the urge to shift more. "I don't know how to control it really. It just happens. When I feel my claws about to come out I just stop."

Stiles made a frustrated noise. "Yes, but how do you stop?"

Derek thought about it. In the time since the accident whenever he's felt pain or been stressed trying to remember he's felt the urge to lose control, but he didn't. Derek focused trying to figure out what it was. He didn't know it just happened. He would calm down. He looked up to Stiles and opened his mouth to tell him that, but he stopped.

Stiles.

He closed his mouth again. Whenever he was stressed about the accident he thought about Stiles holding him. Whenever he didn't know what to do he wondered about Stiles and what he was doing. Stiles was his anchor.

He didn't know where that word came from, but it was the only one that seemed right. Maybe he was remembering it.

Stiles let out a breath. "Nevermind, I'll try and figure it out. Let's focus on something else. How are you? Have you remembered anything else?"

Stiles was still pacing.

He had tried to remember. To remember about his sister, or who might have hurt her. He tried to remember anything about his life, but when he looked himself up he stared at the picture from the article about the fire and felt nothing personal looking at the happy large family. He felt sorry for them, he felt sad at the injustice of so many dying, but they didn't seem like his family. He couldn't remember any of their names or anything about them. He tried to remember about other things too. Like where he was before he came here. If he had a job that was wondering where he was. He had a phone, but he couldn't remember his password. Thankfully his computer was unlocked, but all he discovered from that was his porn taste and that he watched a sad amount of Netflix.

The more he found out about his past he wondered if he wanted to remember. If he wanted to remember all of that pain, the misery, the loss. Even his own boyfriend said he was grumpy. Maybe this was a chance to start over, to be better. The old Derek didn't seem like he was doing any good for anyone. Maybe he could. He could protect Stiles, he could help Scott.

"Not really. But would that even be so bad?" He tried to joke lightly, but Stiles whirled on him.

If Derek didn't remember he wouldn't be able to teach Scott and that couldn't happen. Not to mention if Derek didn't remember what the beast took it could kill all three of them and the hunters would have even more of a shot at it. Besides, it was Derek's life. He couldn't forget that. "Yes, Derek! Yes it would be! You are the only person that knows anything about this shit! There are multiple people and things out there trying to kill my best friend and I! Scott needs to learn control or he could hurt Allison and that would destroy him! We need you. We need you to remember."

Derek still didn't look convinced and Stiles already felt guilty for what he was about to do. "I need you." Stiles came closer and grabbed his hand. "I need you to come back to me so you can keep me safe. To keep Scott safe." Stiles stressed about using his emotions like this and about when Derek remembered.

Derek's face softened. "You're right. I'll try my best. You don't have to worry." Derek pulled him into his arms. "I'll keep you safe." Derek picked up on the panic from the man. "What's wrong?"

Stiles allowed himself one more moment to freak out before pulling himself together. "Nothing." He relaxed and practically slumped against Derek as strong arms held him. Stiles gripped the man back just as fiercely. He didn't know the last time anyone had hugged him, but Stiles wanted to at least give him this one.

When they finally pulled back Stiles got back on track. "I've been looking up memory information and I found some things we could try. If you're up for it."

"Yeah we can try it." Derek led them to a soot covered green couch, that despite it's ratty appearance, was quite comfortable.

They both sat and faced each other while they went through multiple exercises, but all he got was vague notions or feelings and that he liked vanilla ice cream.

"I don't think this is working." Derek was frustrated. He put a hand to his aching head.

Stiles caught the movement. "Are you still healing?"

"Yeah. Most of the bruising and broken bones from the crash healed, but there are still some slashes and the back of my neck still hurts."

Stiles frowned in concentration. "I'll look into that too. Do you want to try another exercise? We have time for one more before Scott gets off work and I have to leave."

Derek nodded.

Stiles pulled his lip into his mouth again and Derek was so distracted by the spit coated red he almost didn't realize it was moving.

"Oh! I've got one. I think this one might work, but you really have to concentrate."

Derek nodded distractedly.

"We can try and remember your family." Stiles looked around the room and amended. "From before, before everything happened. Focus on the house. On remembering what it looked like before. What it sounded like. It was probably pretty loud with so many people in one house. Maybe the floor boards creaked." Stiles took in his blank expression. "Close your eyes and remember it."

Derek raised an eyebrow. "You really think that will work?"

Stiles looked exasperated.

"I'll look stupid just having my eyes closed."

Stiles rolled his before closing them. "There? Will that work?"

Derek closed his eyes. "Fine."

Stiles continued, "Picture a spring day, like now. The old leaves would've been dull crisp brown on the ground as new ones grew. You could hear the wind blowing through the trees."

Stiles was good at this. Derek could feel the wind on his face almost.

"People moving around in the house. Your mother maybe making something, your favorite cookies. You could feel the cool wooden floor underneath your feet. The house feels pleasantly warm. The sun peeking through the trees and streaming into the windows." Derek gripped the edge of the dirt covered velvety couch and tried to remember while listening to the sound of his voice. Stiles' heartbeat was another soothing sound as he tried to lead him through the scene. "You could smell the cookies baking along with the smell of your house, your home." Derek inhaled trying to get a whiff of it, but all he got was smoke and the enticing scent of Stiles. "Picture your family gathered around the table and eating all of your favorite foods. Tasting them all." Stiles swallowed and licked his lips before continuing. Derek wondered what he tasted like. "Everyone around the table. You're happy and surrounded by your family. Do you see it Derek?"

He didn't. He didn't see any of what Stiles described. He opened his eyes and looked at Stiles' face and closed eyes.

What was going on around him faded out and he got flashes of the woods. He was walking when he saw two people. Stiles. 'This is private property,' he heard his voice say. But that was all, he was already back in front of Stiles. "Yeah I see it."

Stiles' eyes snapped open immediately with glee in them. "Really?! You do? You remembered something?"

Derek nodded at him with a smile. "Thanks."

"Awesome!"

This was the first thing he had fully remembered and he wanted more. "Stiles, how did we meet?"

He was thrown for a second. "What? Why do you want to know that?"

"I just figured, might as well start with some memories that someone else knows."

This was a bad idea. Stiles didn't actually have any memories with him and lying could fuck up him remembering.

"The doc even said to listen to stories to help me remember, and I don't have anyone else that knows me."

Stiles' gut twisted in guilt. "I'm sorry."

Derek just shrugged. "Not your fault. I just want to hear something about myself, something about you. How did we meet?"

Stiles floundered for a moment. He didn't know what to do, but he supposed he better lie. He decided to try to stay close to the truth. "Your sister and you came home to visit. You found me on your property and basically told me to get lost. But I'm persistent and I don't really know, I guess we just kept bumping into each other. And when it was time for you to leave you gave me your phone number. We haven't been dating long. You didn't want to date someone so young, but I wore you down." Stiles winked at him and tried to seem confident.

"Oh." Derek sounded surprised.

"What?"

"Nothing. I just thought it would've been the other way around."

Stiles laughed. "You thought you would've been the one to chase me?"

Derek looked confused. "Yes?"

Stiles stopped laughing. "Wait, really? Why?"

Derek lifted an eyebrow. "I must've told you, you are exactly my type." He looked through his porn, sue him, and put two and two together and figured it was because he pictured Stiles. But then he found some with women and realized that was just what he liked.

Stiles' mouth dropped open. He was, sex on legs leather jacket wearing wet dream of a bad boy, Derek Hale's type?!

"Why do you look so surprised? We must've talked about it. The disheveled hair. The wide brown eyes. The moles. And fuck God, those lips." Derek stared down at his lips and Stiles licked them nervously. "You are beautiful."

Stiles swallowed and Derek lifted a hand to cup his cheek. He brushed a thumb along blushing cheeks. "I don't know how I didn't move back here immediately to be here. With you."

Stiles' heart was hammering. "Beacon Hills is quite boring. You'd get the man of your dreams, but at what cost? We don't even have a hot topic."

Derek laughed deeply and it made Stiles take a deep breath. "See, you're so funny. You're perfect. God, I could stare into your eyes for days."

Stiles tried to joke again. "What? I thought you said my lips were great. If you're so soon to forget all about them I won't believe you."

Derek smiled. He brushed his thumb along his bottom lip and Stiles held his breath. "Oh believe me, I could never forget these."

"Ironic considering you forgot ev-" Derek leaned in and Stiles cut his own words off before Derek even touched his lips.

Fuck. Derek was kissing him. He was kissing Derek. Derek couldn't remember anything and he was kissing him because he thought they were boyfriends. Stiles was kissing an amnesiac that he convinced was dating him. God, this was all so much like Overboard. Stiles tried to focus. Derek was kissing him, yup that was a thing that was still happening. He looked at Derek's face scrunched in concentration. He nipped at Stiles' lip and he realized he wanted him to kiss him back. God he didn't know what to do! It would hurt him if he didn't. But he didn't want to kiss him because he lied. Derek was insistent and as soon as his tongue swiped Stiles' bottom lip he made up his mind.

Stiles relaxed and closed his eyes. He cautiously started to kiss him back. Derek took that as encouragement. He pushed Stiles back to lean against a pillow and put his head on the armrest. The new angle was weird. Stiles lifted an arm to tangle his fingers in the hair on the back of Derek's head to adjust the angle. Stiles used his other hand to grip one of the arms Derek was using to brace himself over Stiles. Derek was kissing messy and clumsily. Stiles had the sudden thought that this was sort of Derek's first kiss. He was far from an expert himself, but this was Derek's first. Well, not really, but kind of. Stiles wanted to make it good for him. Stiles licked his bottom lip and Derek was eager for the change. Derek was one hell of a fast learner, or maybe he had enough muscle memory. Gripping onto his bicep Stiles thought, 'Yeah he sure has enough muscles for all sorts of memories.'

Stiles pulled back and gulped in greedy breaths of air. Derek was on his neck instantly. He licked and lightly nipped till he moved to his collarbones. Stiles felt a dull pain. "Are you leaving marks?"

He pulled his mouth back barely long enough to say, "No one will see."

Derek's hand crept up his shirt and Stiles gasped. Oh shit, this had to stop right now. "Derek."

He heard a hum before more kisses were left on his neck.

"Derek we have to stop."

Derek looked up at him confused. "What? Why?"

Stiles tried to get himself under control and breathing. "Because Scott will be here soon. He can't know about any of this, he has too much going on already. I also promised my dad I wouldn't see you. Hell, if he knew I was here he'd shoot both of us. And you're not you right now."

Derek's frown turned into a soft smile. He put and arm between Stiles and the couch and he pulled Stiles into a tight hug as he buried his head into his neck. "I'm so lucky I have you."

Stiles swallowed. "Why?"

Derek pulled back and stared at him with a look Scott sometimes got when talking about Allison. "Because, you're such a great friend. And you're a good son. You're even so loyal that you don't want anything to happen with me because I'm not the man you are dating. God you're amazing. You're the best thing in my life I can tell." Derek paused for a moment before looking appreciative and grateful. "The only good thing."

Stiles didn't know what to say back to that so he was glad when Derek pressed one final chaste kiss to his lips. "If not for everything else I don't know if I'd want to remember. Before you came, I was thinking of making a new life where I could forget all the pain. But I'll remember for you. Just for you Stiles."

Stiles smiled slightly. "I should go. He'll be off soon and it's not that far of a drive."

Derek nodded at him with happy eyes.

He walked him outside to his Jeep and even opened his door. "When can I see you again?"

He asked it so hopefully that the guilt twisted at Stiles' stomach once again. "I don't know. We'll see."

Derek reached through the open window to brush his wrist against Stiles' neck. "Don't let it be long. Please."

Stiles nodded with a tight smile. "Make sure Scott doesn't find out. Act mean remember." Stiles added something at the last second. "Oh and wear the jacket."

Derek raised an eyebrow.

"It's intimidating. And-" Stiles abruptly stopped.

Derek smirked. "And?"

Stiles rolled his eyes. "And stupidly hot. But I don't think it will have that effect on Scott. Just wear the jacket."

While speaking with Scott Derek tried to do everything Stiles asked. When Scott wanted to know what happened Derek gave him Stiles' tip for remembering and hoped it would work. He didn't want to be so gruff towards his boyfriend's best friend, but Stiles said he had to act normal. And his normal was apparently being an asshole. He wanted to help Scott, but he also wanted to protect him and Stiles both, so if Stiles said this was best for them he would do it. Seeing Scott's defensive posture concerned him. Hopefully he could make that right. Scott needed to like him.

As soon as Stiles left he tried to figure out how to keep them safe. They needed to stick together. He'd read in one of the books in the house that pack was strongest when it was together and omegas were weak. He needed Scott to be in his pack to protect Stiles and himself.

But first he had to send Scott back to the bus. Scott couldn't hurt anyone or Stiles would be hurt. He needed to teach Scott how to control the shift, because Stiles said it was the best thing to do. He hoped Scott would remember something at the bus.

Stiles got home and let out a breath. He sped all the way back home feeling like the person that almost caught them at the bus was still behind him. He closed his bedroom door with a sigh.

Now Scott thought Derek killed the bus driver. Hell, maybe he did. How much did he really know about Derek? Not much. Maybe the amnesia was just some big ploy to get out of custody. But then why would he kiss Stiles? Why would he lie about that? It didn't feel like Derek would do something like that. Stiles still thought it was this beast thing. But if it was that, Stiles needed to explain that to Scott soon. He was keeping him from the worry and stress so he didn't shift before, but now he might not have a choice. Scott would be safer knowing what is after him. But for tonight Scott could go out on a date and enjoy being a teenager. Stiles would stay up and research everything to keep them safe.

Derek's jaw was set as he brushed the glass off his seat to drive his car over to the gas station vacuum cleaner. He almost lost it when the hunter mentioned his family. He didn't feel the love or know them, but that was a low blow. Derek wanted to punch him just on principle, but then he thought of Stiles and what he said about hunters. He had to think about Stiles' lips on his as the man smirked after smashing his window.

He had looked through some more books after Scott had left and found a notebook. It seemed like his sister, the one that came back, wrote it. I was research on hunters. It said something about trying to figure out what hunters started the fire. Derek wondered if the hunters were the ones that had killed his family, or if they had known. If they were the type to bring innocents into it. If they were the type to kill defenseless humans.

Derek put away the vacuum and sped to the hospital. The bus driver might have seen who it was that attacked him. Or at least have more information about what it was, but he just left with more questions.

Like why the bus driver knew his name.

Stiles stared at the picture on his computer screen in shock and fear. The beast was an alpha.

It was Scott's alpha.

Fuck. He had to talk about this with someone. Scott wasn't picking up, probably still on his date. It would be suspicious if Stiles just showed up and dragged him away.

Every time he would blink he'd see those red eyes. Every shadowy corner seemed to reach out with claws. He'd hear a noise outside and feel like it was coming for him. He needed to calm down, he needed to feel safe.

He crept out of the house careful not to wake his sleeping father.

As he was driving it felt like something was chasing after him through the woods beside him. By the time he pulled up in front of the Hale house he could barely breathe. The feeling of someone behind him just kept getting worse. He saw the Camaro with a busted in window and wondered if something happened to Derek. Just as he was opening the Jeep's door Derek came out still dressed despite the late hour even wearing his jacket.

"What? What is is?!"

Stiles got out of the Jeep and ran. He crashed into Derek's chest and tightly grabbed Derek's jacket.

"What is it? Is someone there? Are you hurt?" Derek's arms circled him and crushed him to his chest. Stiles shook his head against his chest and tried not to cry.

This was all so much. Fuck, his best friend was a werewolf now. The person that bit him wants to use him for power and to kill people. There are hunters after him. Scott made first line, but he didn't. Stiles made out with a guy for the first time. He didn't even like guys. Scott could kill Allison on accident. The alpha could show up and kill any of them at any moment.

Stiles could die. Scott could die. Allison could die. Derek could die. His dad could die. Every one he loves cou-

"Hey listen to me, you aren't breathing. You need to breathe. You need to calm down. I don't see anyone. You're safe. Breathe with me."

Stiles listened to Derek's heartbeat and tried to calm his own. "He was- it felt like- like he was there."

"He's not. I promise you he's not. But I am. I am here with you. And I'll protect you."

They stood there holding each other as Stiles slowed his breathing.

"Let's get you inside. It's a cold night."

Stiles smiled up at him. "Derek your house doesn't have heat. It barely has flooring."

Derek smiled. "Look at you, one moment you think you're dying, the next you're ribbing me. You bounce back fast."

"It's a gift. The panic response of a cat in a bathtub, but the elasticity of a rubber ball."

Derek laughed and guided him to the couch once again.

Derek sat down and leaned against the arm rest. He tried to pull Stiles to sit next to him, but he sat with distance between them.

Derek frowned. "Come here."

Stiles scratched the back of his head. "What happened last time, I don't want t-"

"That's okay. We don't have to do any of that now. Or even ever. I just want to touch you."

Stiles' mouth opened.

"Not like that. I just want to hold you. I can sense you are upset. I don't know there's just something that makes me need to make sure you're okay. To have you close."

Stiles nodded. He scooched closer and Derek moved his legs out of the way.

Stiles was hesitant. "Can I- can we, cuddle? I know it sounds stupid, but-"

"Stiles?"

"Yeah?" He tensed for being kicked out.

"Get your ass over here and cuddle me."

Stiles smiled and nestled in between his legs. He rested his head on Derek's shoulder and laid sideways. Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles.

"You're good at this." Stiles sunk into the comfort of his warmth.

"What? Cuddling? Did you think I wouldn't be?"

"No. Well, yes. With the grr I wear leather and the general don't touch me attitude, also I thought the muscles wouldn't be the best pillow. But surprisingly, you're great at this."

"You're great at this too. You're warm and smell amazing."

For some reason that made Stiles blush. "Thanks big guy."

"Do you want to talk about it or to think about something else?"

Stiles did want to think about something else, but he had to talk about this. "The beast. It's a werewolf. That can do the full shift, which is very rare. That's the whole reason we don't know who it is. Werewolves that can do the full shift are more powerful, but can lose control and not shift back easier. I think it's an alpha. The alpha i-"

"Alpha?"

Stiles lifted his head up to look at Derek. "Yeah, why?"

"She, my sister, in her notebook wrote something about finding the alpha. It was very vague and I didn't understand until now, but that's what she came her for. To find the alpha. It's what got her killed."

Stiles smelled stressed again. "And now it wants Scott. No matter what he thinks, you didn't bite him. You're a beta, if what I read is right you couldn't have. The alpha did. And now it wants Scott in its pack." Stiles looked worriedly at Derek's eyes for a second, before thinking about Scott's safety instead.

Derek laced their fingers together after Stiles started to chew on his bottom lip in worry. "We'll deal with it. We'll make our own pack." Derek kissed his knuckles.

"Scott thinks you're a murderer. And that you bit him."

Derek smiled. "Something tells me you can be persuasive when you want to be. Besides, his best friend is the most important person in my life, he's got to come around some time."

Stiles squirmed and looked away. "Don't say stuff like that."

Derek smiled. "Why not? Does it make you uncomfortable? It doesn't for me. I know next to nothing, except how you make me feel. I woke up scared in the hospital with nothing but you. I had the memory of you holding me, taking care of me. I don't see any reason in not loving you with everything in me when there is so many things I'm unsure of, because you are definitely not one of those things."

Stiles looked at him with tears in his eyes. "No one except my family and Scott has ever spoken to me like that."

"Like what? Certain?"

"Like they could spend their whole life loving me and it would never be enough. Like I matter to them."

"It wouldn't." There was so much adoration in his eyes Stiles had to close his before a tear slipped out.

"Don't say that." The guilt and disgust at having lied to him tore at his insides.

Derek brushed the tear from his cheek. "Why? I told you I am not afraid."

"Because you don't mean it." Derek went to open his mouth, but Stiles continued, "You don't know enough to mean it. You hardly know anything about me. You don't know what our real relationship is like. You don't even know what you like to eat for breakfast. I'm taking advantage of you and I feel awful for it."

Derek shrugged. "I'm legally taking advantage of you."

Stiles scoffed. "Just because we're both doing it doesn't make it right."

Derek considered that. "That's true. This is what makes it right." Derek kissed him gently and Stiles was weak against it.

Stiles pulled back. "I should go. My dad could wake up."

"Or we could kiss some more and then you could go home."

That was a terrible idea. "That's a wonderful idea. Thank you for sharing. And like I always say sharing is caring. We should all be more caring. The world re-" Derek cut him off with a press of lips.

"Oh I'm sorry were you saying something?"

Stiles gripped his shirt and pulled him upwards toward himself. He kissed him in a way that made Derek feel like his brain melted while running his hands through his hair.

Stiles pulled back and admired the view. Derek's best look was definitely dazed and disheveled. "We'll have to figure out the Scott thing later. And the alpha thing. And the hunter thing, I'm assuming that's who smashed you window? How rude." Stiles kissed him again.

"And probably have to keep my dad out of it at some point."

Derek vigorously nodded. "Oh definitely, but not right now." Derek kissed him again.

Stiles got lost in it and soon enough he had a hand up Derek's shirt. He ran his hand up and down his muscles before remembering to be careful for the slashes. The ones he couldn't find. Had Derek healed? Stiles moved his other hand down from Derek's hair to brush along the back of his neck. Derek brushed his thumb along Stiles' hip right as Stiles felt the claw marks heal under his fingertips.

Derek pulled back and Stiles knew instantly from looking into his wide unsure eyes.

Derek remembered everything.

He pushed Stiles back harshly and stood up. "Wh-what. We're not- no. We're not." He furrowed his eyebrows at Stiles. "You lied."

"Derek please, just let me explain!" Stiles scrambled to get up and in the motion his shirt moved to show a mark. A mark Derek had left.

Derek's eyes went wide. "I- I kissed you." Flashes of a convincing woman and feelings of uncertainty but gratitude filled him.

Stiles was hurt by his tone. "Please, sound more horrified if you could."

"You need to leave."

Stiles took a step to get closer, but Derek took one back. He could tell he wasn't going to leave without a reason.

"Stiles this isn't some childish game. You tricked me, you lied."

Stiles looked down. "I know and I'm so fucking sorry for that, but I had to. I had to protect my dad. Then I had to make sure you protected Scott, but then I let it go too far. I'm sorry."

This was all wrong. Stiles wasn't the one who did something wrong. Derek was. "You need to leave and I don't ever want to see you again, unless it has to do with Scott." Derek set a look of certainty and anger he didn't feel into his eyes.

Stiles shook his head and reached for his hand. "I can fix this. Scott needs you, I need y-"

Derek couldn't hold back. "You need to leave! You needed to never come here. You needed to have never met me."

"You're not the bad guy here Derek."

Derek needed to push him away to keep him safe. Because if he was with Derek he would get hurt. Everyone Derek cares about gets hurt. "You're right. You are. You're the pathetic little bastard that tricked me into caring about you because it's the only way anyone ever would. I take back what I said, I take it all back. You aren't a good son. You got your father in trouble because you can't keep your nosey ass out of things too big for you. You are the one that got Scott bit. You took him out to those woods. If the alpha kills him, it'll be on your hands."

Derek was grateful he could hold out until he heard the Jeep rattle away before emptying his stomach outside. There had been screaming and tears, but mostly it was the choking sent of Stiles' hurt that Derek would remember. But after he slammed the Jeep door, gone was everything except the emptiness. He just felt hollow and disgusted at himself. Right before he hurled he thought about how now he was just like her.

Stiles drove home through tears. He was just coming up the stairs as his dad came out of his room.

Shit. Now he had to deal with this.

"What are you doing? I put out a curfew, damn it Stiles! Where were you?"

Stiles thought fast and hoped it was too dark and late for his dad to notice his puffy eyes. "Scott had his first date with Allison. He didn't want to wait to tell me tomorrow."

His dad's face softened. "Kid, one of these days you'll be the death of me. Did it go well?"

"Yeah, they're thinkin a spring wedding and six kids will be enough."

"He's that gone on her?" His dad chuckled.

"Worse." Stiles noticed his father's uniform. "Wait, why are you dressed?"

His dad opened his mouth, but Stiles cut him off. "You know I'll just find out."

His father sighed. "The bus driver. He's dead."

"Someone got into the hospital?"

"No. He succumbed to his wounds."

Stiles nodded. "So you have to go in."

His father kissed his forehead on the way out. "Sleep well kid."

He heard his father's patrol car leave and he waited a few moments before rushing to Scott's.

---

They never talked about Derek losing his memory. Derek went back to his asshole self and Stiles tried not to be hurt by it. All the while Derek felt guilty for being like Kate and Stiles was hurt from Derek's harsh words that he tried to remember weren't true. But for some god damn reason they never stopped trusting each other. He helped him with the bullet without talking about it. He held him up in the pool. Derek protected him from Issac. They even helped each other when they figured out it was his uncle, and that it was the reason he had tried to take Derek's memory. So Peter wouldn't have to kill his nephew. Derek was there for the nogitsune. Stiles saved him from Mexico. There were so many things they made it through together, and yet they could never get over it.

Sometimes he would look at Derek and feel like they were just a moment away from taking about it, but then it would pass and they would forget all over again.

Almost like amnesia.

A.N. So thanks for reading!!! It means a lot and I appreciate it. I don't know if I'm too happy with the end right now, but it is completed. I might do a part two idk yet. Have a great day/night!!!

Carter😊

[hotchxprentiss]

Maybe Baby: Chapter Two

Ao3 Link

Series Masterlist

Summary: Agent Emily Prentiss joins the BAU.

Word Count: 1.5k

Chapter Warnings: fluff, mild angst, mention of prostitutes getting killed (Sex, Birth, Death episode)

A/N: I have decided that I won’t get into too much detail when it comes to talking about cases. There will be exceptions, however, with cases that relate to the overall plot of the story. Proper warnings will be added to each chapter for anything that is mentioned. 

2006

“Aaron, have you checked the file of the new agent? I want her to join you and the team today,” Strauss asked.

“Not yet, ma’am. The team got caught up in one of the cases and we’re about to debrief. Can you please send her to the conference room? Thank you.”

Strauss nodded and left his office. Aaron gathered up his files and made his way to the ledge at the top of the bullpen. 

“BAU team, we have a case,” he told the agents.

Once everybody was gathered at the conference room, Strauss came in along with another woman. The rest of the agents looked towards her except Aaron.

“Everyone, this is Agent Emily Prentiss. She’ll be joining you on the case.”

Aaron looked up at the sound of the name that fell out of Strauss’ lips. God, is this real? Is it really her? He turned around and was met with gorgeous dark brown eyes and curled raven hair. I haven’t seen her in over ten years.

Emily introduced herself to Gideon, Morgan, Reid, JJ, and Garcia, leaving Aaron for last. 

“Hi, I’m Emily Prentiss. And you are?”

Aaron gave her a confused look. Does she not remember me? 

“I’m Aaron Hotchner. Welcome to the team.”

She smiled at his words and sat down at the roundtable with the rest of the agents. JJ went ahead and briefed the case that was located in the nation’s capital. Prostitutes were being wiped out from the streets and they needed to find the killer fast. The agents made their way to the SUV’s to head over to the police station, leaving Emily and Aaron behind. 

“Emily, can I speak with you for a moment?”

She walked towards him and waited for his question.

“Uhh do you not remember me? I worked for your mother as one of her security agents before transferring to the FBI. You were still at Georgetown if I’m correct?”

“Oh yeah how could I forget! Mother always thought you were her best agent.”

Aaron waited for Emily to bring up their night of intimacy. Surely she couldn’t just forget that, right?

“I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but I just need to ask. Do you remember the day you and your mother had to attend that meeting between France and Italy? You got bored and both of us left the hotel and had a day together. Then we went back to your house and well, we uh had sex,” he explained.

Emily scrunched her eyebrows and replied, “Hmmm I’m afraid I don’t remember any of that. Maybe you just had one of those crazy wet dreams huh?” she chuckled.

“Yeah, haha you’re probably right. Gosh I’m sorry for bringing that up. That was completely unprofessional.”

“It’s no problem, really. I’ve had more embarrassing moments. Listen I’m going to head down with the rest of them. I’ll meet you there, alright?”

He gave her a small nod and she left the room. He couldn’t believe what just happened. Emily completely forgot about their one night stand. This isn’t just something you ‘forget’. I mean she had sex with me, someone who worked for her mother. After a few minutes of thinking, a ringtone interrupted his thoughts.

“Hotch, are you coming with us?” Derek asked through the phone.

“Yeah, I’ll be right down.”

Aaron had to stop himself from thinking about Emily and focus on the case. This is going to be a long day.

~

“Hey, Reid, are you okay?” asked a concerned Emily.

“Yeah, I uh just never thought I would relate to Nathan so much. And when I got that call I completely stopped functioning. I think I’m gonna ask Hotch for a few days off.”

Emily nodded as Spencer walked off to their unit chief. Penelope went up to her while Derek trailed behind.

“Emily, we were wondering if you wanted to join our team dinner? This case took a toll on all of us so a little bonding might be nice, right?”

The new agent thought about it for a while before replying, “I’m really sorry guys, but I have a few things to take care of at home. You know with the big move and stuff.”

“Oh, that’s right, Princess, we totally understand. Join us next time, alright?” Derek said.

“Definitely,” she responded, letting out a small laugh at his nickname for her. 

Once the scene was cleared, Hotch let everyone go home and told them that their reports could be written up the next day. 

~

Emily returned to her apartment and was greeted with a young, dark haired girl coloring on the kitchen table.

“Hey, sweetpea.”

“Mommy! I missed you!”

The young girl ran to her mother’s arms and Emily kneeled so she could properly hug her daughter. 

“I missed you, too, Char. Did you have fun with Olivia?”

“Yes, I did. We watched two movies, went to the park, and Olivia made mac n’ cheese!”

Emily smiled at Char’s energetic self and kissed her forehead.

“Well, I’m glad you had a great time. Why don’t you go ahead and continue coloring while I go talk to Olivia?”

Char nodded and skipped over to the kitchen table.

“Olivia, thank you so much for taking care of her. Sorry the case took a while,” Emily said as she took out her wallet.

“It’s really no problem at all, Miss Prentiss. Char is a joy to hang out with.”

“That’s great to hear. Here’s your payment for tonight.”

“Wait, Miss Prentiss, this is way too much. I can’t accept this,” Olivia replied while attempting to give the money back to Emily.

“You deserve it after everything you’ve done for Olivia. Go ahead and hang out with your friends. I mean it is Friday night.”

“Thank you so much, Miss Prentiss. And I hope you and Char have a great night. Bye, Charlotte!”

“Bye, Olivia!” exclaimed Char.

Emily shut the door and made her way to her daughter.

“Hey, why don’t you go get cleaned up and dressed in your pajamas. We can watch another movie in my room.”

“Okay, Mommy. Can I wear those new pajamas that you got me?”

“Of course you can, sweet pea. I’ll just clean up down here and meet you in my room, okay?”

Char smiled and headed over to her room to get ready for the night.

As of that moment, Emily felt content. She had an amazing daughter, a great job, and a nice apartment for the both of them. But she couldn’t ignore that feeling in her stomach. She knew she had to tell him, but she didn’t know how. Aaron, turns out I never forgot about our one night stand and we have a daughter because of it. Surprise! Emily found it difficult to keep it a secret over the past decade, but now that her superior just happens to be her child’s father, well that’s another problem added to an even bigger one.

“Mommy, I’m in your room now! Can I pick a movie?”

“Go ahead, Char. Just give me a few more minutes.”

Emily didn’t realize the stray tear that escaped her eye until it dropped on Char’s drawing. It was a picture of the both of them together, holding hands and smiling. She couldn’t help but notice something missing. Her father. Char asked Emily why she didn’t have a dad a few years ago. She obviously couldn’t tell her daughter the truth, so she just told her that her dad was gone. Simple as that. Char seemed to accept her mother’s answer because she never asked again. Emily shook her head at the memory and continued to clean the rest of the table. She went over to her room to find Char laying on the bed, eyes glued to the TV. She then headed to the bathroom so she could get ready and join her daughter.

Once she was all dressed, Emily went under the covers and cuddled up with Char. The young girl immediately wrapped her arms around her mother and rested her head on her chest.

“I love you, Mommy,” Char yawned.

Emily kissed the top of her daughter’s head and stroked her cheek.

“I love you, too, sweet pea. I love you so much.”

~

Aaron entered his home and was greeted with silence. He walked upstairs to his son’s room to find him fast asleep with his dino night light plugged in. He smiled at the sight of Jack sleeping peacefully, a nice end to the long day he’s had. 

“I love you, bud. Sweet dreams,” he whispered as he kissed his forehead. 

He turned around and there stood his wife. 

“Hey, welcome home,” she greeted with a kiss on his lips. 

Aaron hugged his wife and led them both to their shared bedroom. He changed into a plain white t-shirt and grey sweats and joined his wife under the covers while turning off the lamp on their bedside table. 

“Goodnight, Aaron. I love you.”

He wrapped an arm around her waist and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. 

“I love you, too, Haley.”

[thekidultlife]

Rewind | Choi Seungcheol

Plot: After meeting in a deserted park, two people sit down at a convenience store and relive memories together.

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x fem!reader

Word count: 4,351

Four years ago | Seoul

It is the last day of your vacation in Seoul, and your heart is torn into a thousand pieces.

You hold a box in your hands, not too big, wrapped in scented paper. Snow is falling gently and some of the snowflakes get stuck on your long, wavy hair. Your eyes well up with tears. 

You had asked the heavens for a sign. If I don't see them today, I won't see them forever.

By six o'clock in the evening, you will board the plane going back to your country. Whatever wishes you had asked the heavens for must be fulfilled now.

God, please, your fangirl soul wept, can't I get a glimpse of them at least? And...especially...

Your mind is suddenly filled with colorful images of doe eyes, infectious laughter, broad shoulders and dad jokes. Dark hair that had changed from red to ash blonde and other beautiful colors. 

"Hey, fangirl!" 

Suddenly your brother is beside you, grinning impishly. He snatches the box from your hands and tosses it to the entryway of Pledis Entertainment. 

"Nate! Why did you--" 

"Oh, please, thank me later," Nate says sarcastically as he drags you away from the building. "You could have gotten reported to the police for snooping around that building! Come on, our flight's in two hours and we're still here in Gangnam. So much to do and Dad doesn't like to be kept waiting."

"B-but---"

"--no buts, sis. Your token of love will be well-received by your boy band, for sure. They won't ignore it, would they? As long as you did not put anything dangerous in there..." Nate stops for a second and turns to look at you in mock suspicion. "...did you?" 

"Let me go!" You wrench free from his grasp and turn just in time to see a van park into the garage adjacent to the entrance. Even Nate turns around to see the action for a moment before grabbing your arm again.

"Wait!" You watch as a person wrapped in a huge dark coat, bonnet, sunglasses and a face mask gets out of the van hurriedly and walks up the steps of the Pledis building. He sees the box, examines it, looks around and looks in your direction.

You could not clearly see who it was from the distance because Nate was dragging you, but you were almost sure--

"--Oh, great." Sighing, Nate lets you go and pulls out his phone. "The Führer calls. Just what I needed. Come on, we have to go. For real."

You watch as the person holding the box disappears inside the building.

. . .

Present Day | Seoul

"It's you, isn't it?"

The voice was filled with unabashed wonder. And it sounded like it came from someone you know very well. But you could not place where you've heard it before. 

You turned around to see who had spoken. The park in front of your hotel was mostly deserted, but there he was, the owner of that strangely familiar voice, standing by the swings, wearing a huge, black jacket and jeans. He was all long legs and had a broad, protective manner about him, as seen by the way his shoulders were set. He had huge, dark eyes but that was all you could see. He was wearing a face mask. 

"It is you. I was so worried." The man slowly brought up a hand to his face, taking off his mask. Suddenly your heart beat faster, but whether it was because you felt like you should recognize him or you were afraid of him because you might not know him, you could not tell.

You spoke carefully, still weighing whether you knew this man, or you never knew him at all. "Hello. Do I know you?"

To your amazement, he spoke your name. 

He stepped closer, and for a brief moment you were afraid, but when you saw his eyes, the warmth and hope lit there, your fears melted away.

"Are you okay?" Again, his lips formed your name.

. . .

Four years ago | Seoul

"Wonwoo, you're late," Chan hollered over the conference table as Wonwoo steps into the room. All heads turn to his direction, except Seungcheol. The sleepless nights he'd been experiencing had taken their toll on him. Now, he could not even turn his head around without feeling lightheaded. 

"Sorry. Someone was at the door when we were on our way here and the staff told me not to get out of the van until she leaves." He gingerly places something on the table. 

"Oooh, a gift," Seokmin glances at it and pokes the scented paper. "She must be a fan who wanted to give this to us personally." 

Wonwoo nods. "I saw her boyfriend toss it towards the door, so it looks a little bit dented. I had someone check it first before I brought it up here. Looks safe." 

"Let's open it! Meeting's on a break anyway." The boys nearest to the table, Seokmin and Jun, carefully tear the wrapping and open the cardboard box. Everyone's curiosity is piqued as they bring out the contents. 

"Wow. She must be a pretty good writer because she wrote a lot of letters for us." Seokmin picks up a letter addressed to him. "Here's a picture of her."

Everyone crowds around Seokmin to take a look.

Jun pulls out something from the bottom. "Hey. It's not just letters. She has an iPod here, too." Jun squints his eye as he reads the label, a tape attached to the back. "But it's not for us. It's only for Seungcheol." 

Everyone turns to Seungcheol, who is dozing off, oblivious to the commotion.

"She probably likes Seungcheol the best."

"Or she labeled it by mistake," Jisoo comments and everyone laughs.

"But are we allowed to receive iPods from fans? Did you run this by our managers?" 

"Let's wait for our managers to come in. Break's almost over." 

Seungcheol has fallen asleep, and Mingyu places the iPod and a thick packet of letters next to him.

Later, Seungcheol would wake up, find the gifts next to him and take it with him. He would read the letters along with other fanmail, but he would forget the iPod. It would be misplaced and will end up on a wicker basket in their living room. 

One year later, on a particularly bright afternoon, Hansol would come into the living room to look for headphones in the wicker basket and he would see the iPod. He will not be able to read the label at the back, but he will get curious and take it into his room with it. He will open it and play its contents, and he will find out that it is not intended for his ears. 

He will then find Seungcheol and give it to him. 

"Listen to it," Hansol will say.

Seungcheol will take it, his foggy memory recalling having been gifted an iPod a year ago. He will see the only playlist there, and he will listen to it.

Headphones on, lying on his bed after a very long day, he first heard your voice. He first spoke your name and he found that he liked the way it sounded when he says it in a whisper; he liked the way it sounded when he says it aloud.

"Beautiful," was all he could say that first time he finished listening to the playlist, the whole day forgotten. Night had falleb and he lays back, staring, wide-eyed at the ceiling. He had simply lain there and listened to your voice filling his ears until there was nothing to listen to anymore.

Beautiful. He drifts off to sleep.

. . .

Present Day | Seoul

"I'm sorry."

You took a step back and pulled your coat closer. "You know my name, but I--" you hesitated for a second, peering into the handsome face before you. "I--I don't know you."

The man looked taken aback by your response. This made you even more flustered, and you struggled to make an explanation.

"You--you see, I'm not really from around here," you stammered, all the while frantically praying that you would remember who he was, because he really acted like you should know him! "I'm on leave from work for a few days and I flew here to unwind. So..." You took another step back but did not look away from the completely bewildered  person in front of you. "...I'm sorry..."

The man did not speak for a minute. But he did open his mouth to speak again. This time, he smiled apologetically, and his kind, dark eyes conveyed his unspoken message to you.

Somehow, he understood that you weren't able to recognize him at this moment; he won't be stressing you out any further. Your heart calmed down at the thought.

He pointed to a convenience store just below the hotel. "Can we go there and talk for a bit?" His eyes turned to look at you again, and you noticed how intensely he was staring at you, but he seemed to be taking great pains trying to hide it. He smiled more easily after a while and scratched his head. "I think we need to clear the air between us. I must have startled you when I approached you. Sorry." 

You smiled back, taking in how the lamplight reflected on his eyes and made them glow beautifully. You almost forgot how uncomfortable you had been in the first place, talking to a stranger in a deserted park. 

But somehow, you knew. He knows you. The way he said your name...there was something about the way he said your name. 

"Okay." You walked towards the direction of the convenience store, and then looked over your shoulder at him, still offering a polite smile. "I'm in. Let's talk."

. . .

Three years ago | Seoul

Seungcheol closes his eyes peacefully. 

The night is far from silent; the practice room was teeming with people. Their managers, the two dance instructors and a few aides, along with the members--it's hard to find a place where he could sleep and relax before he is called back to the floor. Cozied up in a corner where he could lean his head back, he clicks on the iPod and plays.

The lilt of your voice both calms and excites him the moment he hears it. "Hey. How are you? I hope you're doing better than I am. It's Thursday here, and it's been a bad night for me." A melodic sigh fills his ears, and Seungcheol smiles.

I know, he answers your voice, I know. Your boss that you told me about last time called you into his office to finish paperwork and you had to stay until late at night.

"Remember that boss I told you about, the one that gives me headaches everyday? Well, he called me into his office this afternoon and asked me to file this and that, to finish important paperwork for him. Boy, if only I knew how long it would take me. I had to stay until the building closed! Time check, it's now...wait, I have to get my phone from my bag..." Seungcheol heard thuds and the ripping sound of a zipper being opened, along with a tired humming of Taylor Swift's New Year's Day song. 

Seungcheol smiles to himself. He hoped no one was looking because he was whispering another imaginary response to you. It's past twelve midnight there. 12:04, to be exact. And you always put your phone inside the secret pocket of your bag, but you always forget that you had put it there, too. You will find it in 3, 2, 1...

"It’s 12:04 a.m.!" You shout triumphantly and Seungcheol smiles brighter. "Sorry for the long silence. I was looking for my...my phone, because--"

"--you don't wear a watch," Seungcheol says out loud and he forgets that his manager is beside him, looking at him quizzically now.

"...I don't wear a watch. I misplaced it somewhere here in my room. But I'll find it later on. I almost forgot where I put my phone, too, because I always forget that I always put it inside my bag's secret pocket. Ha. Forgetful, and...tired. But I can’t let myself down now, or anyone else. I can’t. Like I told you, a lot depends on me right now…”

Seungcheol opens his eyes and his gaze roams around: at the members, at the crew, at everyone inside the practice room. Magically, what you experienced and what he experiences now, your and his emotions, have aligned again. You're tired. You're tired because you feel pressured to do well. To excel in everything you do. You do it because you can't let down the people who are looking up to you. You want to be carefree but you aren't in a position where you could be carefree...You feel lost. Just like I do. I know. He shuts his eyes again. I know how you feel. 

You say exactly what he said in his mind. He had memorized everything already. 

"To be honest, I don't even like my job now! I've always wanted to write. To set up my own publishing company. But I'm stuck for now, editing articles and saving up. I don't know what lies ahead, but I," you said your full name, "will fulfill my dreams! I know I will. Someday. Someday. I won't mess up."

Seungcheol began to try out the sound of your name on his lips for the thousandth time. It was a common name, all standards considered, but somehow, you had made it unique. You were unique.

And so it went. For a full hour, Seungcheol simply leans against the wall,  eyes closed, listening to you talk about your day. 

He sighs contentedly when he gets to the end of the track. You had picked up a guitar and was strumming a sad but hopeful tune. 

"This is one of my originals. It's titled, 'I'll Be Okay'. Listen to this if you are having a bad time like me right now, or if you want to feel hopeful in the face of uncertainty. This helps me." Then, in a softer tone that Seungcheol knows is meant only for him, you add, "And I hope it helps you, too."

You start to sing.

But I know

That I'll be okay

The sun will still shine

After the rain

I may still be

The same as I was yesterday

But I know

That I'll be okay.

Directly across Seungcheol, Soonyoung sits on the floor, catching his breath after a strenuous practice. He sees Seungcheol silent, earphones on, seemingly in a world all his own. "Is he still listening to that iPod playlist?" Soonyoung asks Wonwoo beside him incredulously, barely whispering. He runs a towel through his face. 

Wonwoo nods and shrugs. "He probably feels relaxed listening to whatever's in there." 

"A fan made it for him. Must have taken a lot of work." 

They watch as Seungcheol mouths a word.

"Must be the fan's name," Wonwoo wisely suggests, rising to his feet as the dance instructor asks them to huddle in the middle of the room. "We're up. I'm going to tell Cheol." 

Soonyoung nods, throws the towel onto his shoulder and walks toward the group. He is tired but the night is still young and there is a lot to improve on for the next performance. But he looks back at Seungcheol, who is getting up and is removing the earphones. Their eyes meet.

"Her name sounds beautiful," Soonyoung teases, smiling. 

Seungcheol smiles back, embarrassed. He scratches his head and replies, "Yes. It does." 

. . .

Present Day | Seoul

You both bought cheap coffee and found a table by the corner where you could talk privately. The man's doe-like eyes regarded you with an emotion that you could not interpret. Who was he? 

Your head hurt just trying to remember. So you let the awkward pause grow longer, sipped your coffee and waited for him to speak first, eyeing him warily.

"Is the hotel above the one where you are staying? Oh. Sorry." He must have seen your alarmed expression at his question, so he smiled apologetically. He scratched his head, embarrassed, but his dancing eyes continued to look at you. "Hmm. How should I begin this conversation?" 

"Well," you carefully set aside your coffee and folded your hands together on the table, gazing at this handsome stranger as levelly as you can, "maybe you could tell me who you are first. That could be a good start." 

And so he did. He said his name. But it did not ring a bell in you. You stared at him blankly. 

He paled at the stony stare you gave him, and he repeated his name again. "Choi Seungcheol. You really don't know me? At all?" 

Choi...Seungcheol. There was something familiar about this name, but you could not place it. Barely an echo in your mind, but it was in there. That name. It belonged to your memory. But how? 

Anxiously, you prayed that God would clear your mind. That you would remember this man, because he was looking at you with such an expectant expression, an almost desperate expression in his desire that you remember him. But you shook your head. 

"I'm sorry. I don't know your name, either." Your hand went up to your right temple.

"You don't?" There was a disbelieving tone in his voice, and it made you want to retract your words. His eyes had widened in confusion. "You really don't know my name? Not at all?" 

Slowly, you shook your head. Tears began to sting just below your eyes. This conversation was getting embarrassing. And confusing. You looked across at the park just in front, where you had met this man. You suddenly wished you did not agree to sit with him here. 

Another silence reigned and this time, it was you who broke it first. The man named Choi Seungcheol looked devastated, the hurt in his eyes so visible. It made you feel guilty. He had leaned back on his chair and was gripping his empty coffee cup too tightly.

"How did you know my name?" you asked softly. 

He opened his mouth to speak immediately, but he looked away, as if he did not know how to answer that, too.

"Because you say you don't know my name and because I look like a total stranger to you, I don't know how to respond to that, either," was all he could say.

Curious, you leaned closer into him. Dark, sad eyes met your inquisitive ones. "Why don't you know how?" 

Swiftly, he drew closer, too. You felt your knees touch underneath the table. Electricity shot up and down your spine. Your faces are merely inches away at this point. Something inside you was melting, all buttered up and ready to cave.

"If I tell you how I got to know you, will you believe me?" The way he said this upped the mystery that tangled you this familiar stranger. 

"Clearly, you are not a friend of mine," you said bravely despite the turmoil boiling inside you, "but you act as though you know me well. And the way you greeted me...I think you haven't seen me for a very long time."

Seungcheol looked all the more confused by your words, but he nodded in agreement. "Actually," he answered hesitantly, "you are right. We haven’t seen each other for a very long time.”

Your heart rose to your throat and your eyes widened. Your face flushed red and you cleared your throat. "Um. Mr. Choi?" 

It clearly stung him to hear you address him so formally, but Seungcheol sadly smiled and said, "Yes?" 

The question in your head sounded ridiculous, but you forced yourself to ask it.

"Did we date?" 

This time, his eyes widened, but they twinkled and light danced in them. 

Was that acknowledgment that you did date? Or was that humor in his eyes at your question? 

You flushed a deeper red at this point, and you leaned away. "Like...online or something?" 

Seungcheol looked like he wanted to laugh because he was pursing his lips too tightly. Instead, he broke out into a smile and leaned away from the table, too. He fixed his gaze on you again. But his expression grew serious after a time.

"You really can't remember anything about me?" 

"You're really not my friend," you said tightly this time. You crossed your arms. "Because if you were, you would have known that I got into a car accident about two years ago. I almost died, but I eventually made it and I lost my memories instead. I've recovered most of my memory, but..." you paused when you saw the surge of emotions on Seungcheol's face. "...there are things, places and people that are like ghosts.” 

Seungcheol’s features softened as he began to understand why you don’t know him. But he also looked as though he was in pain. In pain because of what you had just revealed to him.  But you have to continue speaking. “Some people,” you say, idly stirring what was left of your coffee, “some people...I see their faces and I hear their voices and for a while I feel certain that I would finally know who they are.  Some things  I remember fragments of. But nothing connects. Nothing gets fit together. I am only left with pieces. Pieces that  I can't put together because there are other pieces I’ve lost somewhere. Pieces that I can’t remember where I lost anymore.”

Suddenly, there was no space between you both. 

He had closed the space and his arms were going around your neck, his hands putting something in your ears. You saw that it was white earbuds. He had put on earbuds to your ears. He pulled out something from his jacket pocket. 

An old iPod. 

Seungcheol’s eyes found yours again. He smiled sadly. “I,” he whispered softly, “am a piece that you lost. But with this,” his fingers played with the iPod, “you will find me where you lost me.”

He pressed Play. 

. . .

[Throat clearing.] Hello, babe! It’s me. 

Choi Seungcheol. 

Your boyfriend. 

I’ve been waiting for you for two years and five days now. Yep. That long already. This long time makes me remember that day we had a concert and I literally ran to the crowds when I saw you for the first time. Will our meeting again be like that once I see you again? 

Will you smile at me again and say, “Hello, Choi Seungcheol”? 

I hope the doctors were just messing with me when they told me that there could be a chance that...that you may not remember me. I really hope that’s not the case. But if it is the case...do I have to ask you out again? [Laughs nervously.] Well, if I do have to win your heart the way I did before, I will give it my best shot. So you won’t have anything else to do but  say yes to dating me again. 

I miss you. 

I love you so much. 

I...the reason why I’m recording this is because...when I was down and in a slump, it was your voice that brought me back to life. Your voice, your stories, the hardships and happiness you experienced...you told me about it all and you recorded it for me. I got to know you in a way no other person could because of what you did for me. 

[Voice breaks down.] Babe...if there is a chance that you lost your memories of me...I’m...I’m really hoping that these recordings...would make you remember. Remember me. 

Remember us. 

So here ends Track 1. Hit ‘Next’ for Track 2. 

Get to know me. 

Again. 

. . .

“Choi Seungcheol…”

Seungcheol was crying.

He was holding your hand as you listened. As you listened to his voice, pleading, begging you to remember. His head bent low, he spoke. 

“I wanted to take you home after you got out of the hospital two weeks ago, but...but I could not bear it when you...when I saw you and you did not smile at me the way you used to. That was when...that was when I knew that you could not remember me.” He looked up at you with tears brimming his eyes, his mouth open, gasping for air. He closed his eyes again and he sobbed.

Tears fell from your eyes and your voice constricted in your throat. 

After a moment of silence, Seungcheol’s head was between your hands, his eyes looking up at you.

“You’re right,” you answered hoarsely, your eyes filled with so much pain at the sight of this man becoming undone. “You...are a piece I can’t remember. But…” your eyes rested on the iPod. “You’re right. With this…” Seungcheol’s hands found your face. “I will find you where I lost you.”

Your tears mixed with his as he claimed your lips with a kiss.

. . . 

Three years ago | Seoul

“Jeonghan,” Seungcheol whispers, his eyes round with amazement, “front row. That’s her.”

“Okay, CARATs, looks like Seungcheol found his friend in this concert crowd now, the one who gave him a very special gift. Can you help her up the stage?” 

But CARATs need not move, because Seungcheol is already racing down the stage, all the energy he’d spent coursing back his body, his heart beating a million times faster. He could not hear anything around him as he runs, runs and runs until, finally, he reaches his destination. 

You. 

His ears stop ringing. 

Your eyes, smiling at him the way he knew they would, takes him in and he is plunged into a world where only you and him exist. 

“Hello, Choi Seungcheol.”

He has heard that voice so many times in his head. 

He smiles and takes you into his arms. 

“Hello.” He whispers your name softly. 

And he holds you for a long time.

- Leanne

[talesofsonicasura]

Diamonds and Voodoo

You Do Voodoo

A mysterious visitor comes to Morioh. Paths diverge and intertwine with the various townfolks of this crazy, noisy bizarre town. And it all started with a good deed touched by a bit of magic.

Good deeds tend to create ripples throughout what we know as life. Sometimes an act of kindness can lead to great rewards. At rare times the road to hell is often paid with good intentions. Nevertheless, this type of charity has a habit of changing the future of one or many individuals. For sometimes, a grand adventure begins with that very act of kindness.

"Look out!" Morioh, a small town amongst the middle of nowhere quite unlike many cities found in Japan. A type of place that tends to be quiet but also hosts some oddities within its dwellings. Unlike many small towns, Morioh would become ground zero for a strand of very bizarre events and each with their own level of danger.

A car was parked awkwardly sideways between the road and crosswalk. Upon closer inspection, this was a crash as the front end was inward from the telephone pole currently wedged inside the bright red metal. To the side was an abandoned bicycle alongside a police officer and what many from this town could call a foreigner. The officer holded the visitor close to his chest almost awkwardly, the telltale of being grabbed.

The officer was an older and surprisingly buff male, darkened grey hair hidden under his cap, eyes that had a natural glint of kindness despite the concern now shining for the person in their arms. A would-be victim of the car accident was a young woman around her late teens, between 16 or 17 from the bits of remaining baby fat still left on her face.

Her skin was slightly tanned in a more climate related basis, such as sun exposure than natural skin tone, hair a short messy lime green hidden under the top jaw of a dinosaur-esque skull, a 5'8 body that was slim, lean and had moderate bust along with curves, but it was her eyes and her arms that drew the most attention.

The young woman's arms were decorated in wavy almost vine patterned tribal markings with a four toes pad on each shoulder and her eyes had a unique case of heterochromia with the right being a normal orange but the entire left eye was blue except for a single white pupil. Her outfit consisted of dark blue fingerless gloves, red sneakers, light brown cargo shorts, a black bra and opened orange vest outlined in red.

"You okay there missy? That car almost hit you if I didn't pull you away in time." The officer questioned, his voice soft and kind in a sort of grandfatherly way. She merely looked up at him with a large impish smile. Not even scared or off-put that a speeding car almost made the teen paste on the street.

"I'm good mister! Just glad no one else got hurt either. Car accidents aren't something normal folks can handle and I rather get hurt than somebody else! I'm more than capable of taking some nasty hits!" The woman's peppy, slightly loud and light chuckle paired with the slightly morbid words had thrown the officer for a loop before he strangely found himself chuckling too.

"Hahaha. Well aren't you an odd but thoughtful young lady? I wish some of my friends on the force had that kind of energy. Everyone's been down as of late and honestly needs a pep talk or two." The greenette looked at his badge for a moment as if scanning for his name. Something that was quick to find apparently as it read 'Ryohei Higashitaka'.

With that in hand, she then reached into the pocket of her cargo while silently whispering his name. The officer or Ryohei honestly looked a bit surprised when the youth produced a peculiar item. It was a small brown wooden charm carved into a smiling mask. The mask was painted with red lips, yellow with green outlined eyes, large reddish eyebrows and four small feathers ranging from yellow, orange, purple and red.

"Please take this mister as a sign of gratitude. It's a good luck charm carved into the likeness of Aku-Aku, a spirit of protection. This charm shall ward off a great disaster in your future." The older man took the odd charm with a soft smile and looked it over. He softly chuckles before patting her head.

"Why thank you! It's pretty adorable and well crafted! I'll make sure to keep it close. Good luck is something a lot of people nowadays…" His eyes widened a bit upon realization. "Whoops! Careless me! I forgot to ask for a name. I am Ryohei Higashitaka, an officer of the Morioh Police Department. What's your name missy? I need it to file a report for ya and if you want to press charges." She merely gave an impish smile with a bit of her tongue sticking out.

"It's Taki-Taki, Taki-Taki Bandicoot."

Budo-ga Oka Middle and High School, one of the few schools within Morioh. A joint school where grades between 6 and 11th are together instead of being separate. It was also a place that had a quite an amount of delinquents which make up some of the school's student body.

Walking towards this destination from the local town square was a mountain of a man in very odd clothing. Hair was jet black and well groomed, eyes a bright ocean blue, body sculpted like a Greek God from every single inch out of 6'5 and a natural scowlish look on his face. Nearly all his clothes, from his coat, pants, shoes and torn back hat with golden pins stylized to spell Jo were white except for the man's shirt which was pitch black.

The man was currently looking over a paper, a report or letter from highly detailed it was in both text and a few select photos. His brows wrinkled in aggravation before muttering a soft 'Yare Yare Daze' under his breath. "Godamnit old man. You're too old to be causing this type of bullshit." He hissed, rough, husky and slightly aggravated tone to his voice making a few people steer clear of his vicinity.

Well… not just that. Unknown to the raven in question, there was something odd looking over his shoulder. This peculiarity was a mask of sorts. It looked vaguely human but the light blue material used to craft it was spectral from how it softly glow like wisps in the night sky.

An Aztec type crown at the top with four flat points as if it was a piece from a gear, large carved ears with faint spiral at the center, pure white eyes and mouth outlined in mauve, and the same mauve color to imitate flat eyebrows. Bystanders seeing the mask either quickened their step or blamed this bizarre sight as 'too much coffee' or 'no more liquor in the morning.'

"Huh. Guess an old man in his late 60s can get laid. Oh, so that's where the gardens are!" The young man nearly bit his tongue in shock from both the raspy, light and almost nerdy sounding male voice but also the fact it came from a floating tiki mask that took a closer look at his document.

He couldn't get a word out of his mouth as the mask flew off with surprising speed. "A Stand?! That means there's a Stand User nearby! You ain't getting away from me!" A bright golden aura began to burn around the adult upon giving chase to the airborne oddity. On the sidewalk, the man's shadow grew with the addition of a more peculiar one.

A few minutes passed when the chase was called off upon the mask being too far in the air to pursue, the extra shadow vanished as the adult male let a growl in annoyance. He lowers his hat with a curse. "Damn it. If that thing's responsible for the recent incidents going on in this town…" The man then went to a payphone before dialing in a number.

"This is Jotaro Kujo. Tell the heads of the Speedwagon Foundation that there is confirmed Stand activity in Morioh. Look into the database about a Stand in shape of a glowing blue mask and the possibility if it's connected to Dio." The phone was slammed down as the white coat of the man fluttered while he left.

"Poke!" A finger poking the little snout of a box turtle that had swam up from the water of the makeshift pond seated by a small bus stop. Sitting on the curb of the pond beside was the odd Taki-Taki, currently petting the small reptilian much to its pleasure. "You're a handsome turtle, aren't you? Much nicer than the big ones back home." She cooed while the turtle rubbed itself against her hand clearly in love with the kind contact.

A little whimper had the young woman look around in utter confusion. Soft heterochromia eyes soon met bright baby blue ones tinged with a bit of fear. That fear directed to the little reptile nipping at the greenette's fingers.

A 5'11 muscular young man with blue violet hair tended neatly into a large pompadour, a dark violet gakuran pinned with a yellow heart and gold peace on each side of his chest, sunshine yellow shirt that peeked through the gap of his uniform coat, and dark boots were the owner of these baby blue orbs.

"You okay? Look like you're about to pee yourself." Taki-Taki questioned upon the fidgeting male still looking at the turtle as if it tried to eat him. He immediately calmed down a bit now noticing he wasn't exactly alone, cheeks dusting a bright red. "I'm so sorry! Reptiles just give me the willies that's all, mostly turtles." His soft and slightly rough almost if still adjusting practically rattled with nervousness.

She merely chuckled whilst waving off any concern. "It's alright! Everyone is afraid of something so no harm done. Plus this little handsome fellow is much more kinder than the ones I've seen in Turtle Woods. Those turtles were mean and one tried to steal my hat!" Her spare hand pointed at the dinosaur skull on her head since the other was still petting the shelled reptile.

The pompadour wearing young man shivered upon the two words 'Turtle Woods' but was honestly thankful that she wasn't making fun of him for his phobia. Taki-Taki then stood up whilst petting the turtle's head one more time. "I better go! Promised to get some stuff with my friend Lani-Loli and we're supposed to meet up at the gardens! Chou!" And she was gone with a pep to her step.

"My name is Josuke Higashitaka… And she's gone. Maybe I'll see her again." The sound of male cursing grew as the purple pomp prince noticed a bunch of male students coming over to him. Delinquents from their rude, downlooking and glaring faces, something that only made him sigh. Days like these tend to suck.

The Higashitaka household, home to the Higashitaka family which consisted of the older police officer Ryohei, his daughter but also single mother Tomoko and Tomoko's son Josuke. A lively place from the unique personalities of the three living inside. Well, it wasn't like this right now.

Peculiar water slipping away from the house window almost like a cobra finished with their prey. A fact so true upon the still body of the family matriarch lying lifeless on the floor. Face carved in blood coated horror slowly changes to a pristine clean outlook through a soft golden aura. Almost if the man died in his slumber and not of gruesome supernatural murder.

The golden aura belonging to a bubblegum arm coated in crystalline diamond armor soon vanishes inside the body of Josuke. Behind Josuke was Jotaro, the man clad in white being a relative, his nephew shockingly taken into consideration that his grandfather was the pomp prince's father. Who knew?

And the older man could only look at the teen that was his uncle trying to coax his dead grandfather back to life with sympathetic pity. Aquamarine eyes that always seemed stuck in a perpetual glare now softened at the scene. The look of someone who had seen a death like this before. Or to be more precise, had experienced such a grizzly sight.

Jotaro knew that this wasn't the time for grief fueled hysterics. There were more pressing matters and dangers ready to drown them from the inside. "Josuke…" Any further words from the older man, alongside any actions from the teen immediately stopped upon one thing. Subtle movement originating from the chest of the officer's corpse before them.

A sickly sweet scent reminiscent of cherries filled the air along with the soft sizzle of something burning. Thin wisps of smoke coming from the body's chest pocket spurred Josuke to go into the clothing's pouch. Baby blue eyes widened seeing a small brown tiki charm in his hands but specifically the feathers that were turning to dust.

"A voodoo charm?" The purplette's attention immediately went back to the corpse of his grandfather. His still chest slowly began to rise and fall almost as if… "He's breathing." It was the only conclusion Jotaro came to upon the subtle movements. The charm in the teenager's hands fully became ash once his previously deceased grandfather sat up looking purely confused.

"Ooh my head… I don't remember my favorite booze having that strong of a kick. Josuke? What are you doing here since I thought you were going out? Who's this guy? And why are you crying?" Ryohei didn't expect to wake up to such a scene or his own grandson to hug him so hard thinking he was about to kick the bucket.

He was quick however to notice the scent of cherry in the air alongside a missing weight in his breast pocket. "Did someone light a scented candle and where did my good luck charm go? Was I mugged or something Josuke?" The elderly man's inquiry had the two younger men share the same look. They needed answers.

/"You want to know who gave me that charm? Well, it was a young girl around my grandson's age. She had green hair, heterochromia with her eyes being orange and blue, and had what looked like a dinosaur skull on her head. Said her name Taki-Taki Bandicoot and came into town looking for ingredients. The charm was based off of a guardian of protection... Aku-Aku I believe she said."/

Information that had both Jotaro and his younger uncle running through the streets of Morioh in a hurry. Ryohei had been put into protective custody with a short call from whoever the raven had pretty high connections to. Something that man would have refused if it wasn't for the fact his son was crying. Josuke only cried when things were at the absolute worst. This made it easier to search without the man being in danger once more.

"I never thought my life would have gotten this insane. First an escaped death row inmate capable of killing his victims from the inside with water and now a Stand User capable of bringing back the dead! Things weren't like this until you came to town!" The highschooler quipped as if to ignore the harsh ache going through his legs.

"Your life was bound to become bizarre the moment you awakened your Stand, no, the moment you were born with Joestar blood. A curse everyone in this damned bloodline has. So don't blame me for the shitshow." Jotaro fired back in absolute annoyance. Their destination was the place mentioned by the woman when Josuke encountered her, Morioh's Springroll Garden.

"Maybe she can remove it? She does know voodoo and it does involve a lot of curse thingies? Do you think Taki-Taki can get rid of my fear of turtles?" The teenager's question was merely met with an eye roll from Jotaro. He was going to shout back an insult until something caught his eyes.

A lone figure standing amongst a large collection of various flora and vegetation belonging to one of Morioh's famous landmarks. More accurately a lonehuman figure and a soft blue floating oddity by them that was very damn familiar to the male clad in white. "There she is and that's the Stand I saw earlier!"

Taki-Taki was currently plucking a few mushrooms from underneath the bushes that provided their moist dark home and placed them into a small straw basket. Springroll Garden was a place where people could pick their vast garden by purchasing a special ticket and take home an entire basket full of items.

"It's kind of cool that the town has such a garden like this. Especially when it guarantees a free basket of fresh goods for first time visitors too!" The luminescent mask said with a big smile while looking at a bush full of white roses. His green haired friend merely let out a chuckle in agreement before speaking. "Same here pal. Makes it a lot easier to find the things needed to work my magic."

A loud shout had the two look up to see some familiar faces running their way. "Wouldn't you know? Hey Pompadour Prince, fancy seeing you here!" Taki-Taki's nickname immediately had the boy stop in his tracks. Face burning in anger until the words finally hitting turned that anger into pure confusion. The sudden confusion didn't stop the mask from cowering behind the greenette.

"Pompadour Prince?" He questioned while pointing to himself, clearly confused. "You kidding? That's the best pompadour I've ever seen. Also, calling you king is going a bit too far since we've barely known each other and aren't in a relationship." Her words caused the male teen to blush a bit paired with a smitten look and cheesy smile.

Jotaro merely elbowed Josuke's shoulder as the highschooler remembered what they were supposed to be doing. "Taki-Taki Bandicoot, we need you to come with us. We already know about you being a Stand User since your Stand is hiding right behind you but also that charm you gave Ryohei Higashitaka before he was attacked."

The greenette merely had a confused look before it immediately narrowed into glare after the words Ryohei Higashitaka and attacked. Her emotions were clearly being felt through the odd mask as it came out of hiding to glare at them. "I knew something bad was bound to happen upon seeing that dark aura. Tell me what you've done to that kind officer before I rip ya putzes a new one!"

Josuke was thrown off guard by the sudden aggression consuming Taki-Taki's features. It was as if a cloak of pure madness just overshadowed that sunny aura of the greenette. The change didn't deter Jotaro who refused to back down at her threat. As if proving his point, a gold aura started to radiate from his body.

"You need to calm down now. We aren't your enemies but I won't hesitate to knock you out even if you're a girl." The man spoke as something appeared from his body like an apparition. It was a humanoid spirit of sorts that appeared to be an Aztec Warrior or barbarian with similar origins.

Just as big and buff as his summoner but a bit more, soft blue skin that outlined a coral inner pink, black hair that flowed like smoke but sparkle as if it was stardust, soft ocean blue eyes and a body armed with white pauldrons painted in gold spirals, black fingerless gold studded gloves, a white scarf around their neck, black knee high boots and a long white loincloth alongside a dark tasset.

Yet, the strange being seemed to only piss off Taki-Taki even further as she went into her pant's pocket to pull out a small crystal orb. "You're going to threaten me with a giant in his skivvies? Alright jackass, hope your ready to party. For this Ooda-Booga Boogie of mine is going to send ya to the hospital!" And she crushed the crystal orb in her hand.

Both men only had seconds until a large blackish pink fist had punched Jotaro's spirit in the face, the ghost and summoner were sent flying out of the garden before kissing the street concrete. Josuke could only blink before seeing the thing responsible for sending his nephew airborne. "Holy shit!" For what stood snarling in front of Taki-Taki was an absolute monster.

A heavily built 9'6 tall slightly deformed anthropomorphic porcupine with vibrant magenta skin overshadowed by a darkish gray hide. A long singular black horn tipped with hot pink, burning crimson eyes that glared down at the man in white, a magenta muzzle overlapped with an giant overbite of fangs, multiple pink tipped black spikes across their back, their right arm covered in black armor in the form of a riot shield, and crimson hakama trousers with a black paw print on the side.

The beast snarled angrily at Jotaro while a trail of drool came down from their razor sharp maw. It then let out a loud and deep inhuman roar almost if challenging anyone foolish enough to face the beast's wrath. Jotaro had gotten back onto his feet, spitting a bit of blood on the road before wiping the remainder from his mouth. Some of it stained bits of his hat a dark crimson. His spirit staring at the beast with an analysistic glare.

"That's one hell of a sucker punch you got there. Quite an ugly bastard of a friend you have, makes me question which one it is though. Is the beast your actual stand or a byproduct of its power?" The question only seemed to aggravate the greenette and the large creature she called upon.

"That 'ugly bastard' is my friend Quill and what is with this Stand garbage anyway?! What I want to know is did you attack Mr. Ryohei?! My charm doesn't just vanish without fulfilling its purpose even if stolen. Now answer me or I'll beat the truth out of you!" Taki-Taki declared with a snarl that held inhumanely sharp teeth.

Josuke didn't have to be a genius to know if he didn't stop these two right now then things were going to get a lot worse. His nephew's Stand went in for a punch while the greenette's large beast followed suit. Neither attack landing their blow as two diamond covered pink hands caught both fists.

The culprit was a giant pink skinned warrior whose body was covered in Corinthian style diamond armor. He was huge with the same type of muscle like Jotaro's spirit, eyes were a bright baby blue that shone through the darkness of the heart top helmet with concern, wires connecting the back of his neck to his back, heart shaped diamond pauldrons with spikes, armor that over lined the side of his arms, legs and back, and diamond plating rings around the fingers.

Unlike Jotaro's Stand or Taki-Taki's giant beast, this one exuded a gentle and kind aura akin to that of a guardian or protector. Something that made sense from the soft magenta aura radiating from Josuke. "Please stop fighting! I don't want to see my nephew or the person who saved my grandpa hurt each other for something stupid!" The pomp prince's words carried strong as they were sincere.

Something the greenette easily felt upon Quill taking a step back as if backing down from the fight since there was no longer any hostility. Jotaro's Stand disappeared soon after while he muttered a soft 'Yare Yare Daze' under his breath. "Holy shit… I thought things were going to get ugly there. I don't think this garden deserves to be wrecked by a Spike." The mask's quip not being lost on anyone.

Later at the Higashitaka House, cups of tea were placed on the table. Sitting at the table on mats were Josuke, Jotaro and the odd woman known as Taki-Taki Bandicoot. To their left side strangely enough was the greenette's mask and both men's spirits that were conversing with each other or goofing off upon the playing cards between them.

"I still don't believe that Stands are basically the spiritual energy of someone given form. You sure they aren't warrior ancestors? Jotaro's Star Platinum looks like an Aztec barbarian and Josuke, your Crazy Diamond reminds of those old Greek soldiers from his armor." She said while looking at the three oddities playing Go Fish.

A Scrabble holder was being used for the mask or Lani-Loli's cards since he didn't have any hands. He would ask either Star Platinum or Crazy Diamond to put any of his matching cards down and when he needed to 'fish' a card. "Pretty sure. Couldn't I ask the same thing about Lani-Loli over there? Floating masks that can talk aren't normal either." Josuke quipped while pointing to the mask in question.

"Hey! I'm right here you know and I'm way older than all of you combined! And I would have you know that I was human before becoming a Quantum Mask! If I still had hands I would smack all three of you on the head!" The mask fired back in aggravation, some of the cards disappearing in blue wisps of smoke... alongside Josuke's clothes.

"Eeek!" He panicked immediately covering his crotch, Jotaro hiding his embarrassment under his hat while Taki-Taki turned her head away with face hot red in embarrassment. "Great Tikimon! Lani-Loli! Phase his clothes back now!" The mask quickly undoing his magic in sheer embarrassment. Josuke's clothes and the cards popping back into reality with similar blue wispy smoke.

Poor teen let out a sigh of relief knowing he wasn't nude in front of a girl anymore. "Sorry! Sometimes I accidentally poof things out of existence when I'm stressed! And nothing says stress like an escaped convict who kills people with living water!" Jotaro rolled his eyes at the smartass remark. For an all mighty ancient mask, Lani-Loli was an anxious nerd that was a scare away from passing out.

The reason why they were holed up in Josuke's house was that all of them were targets of the Stand User Angelo and his Stand Aqua Necklace.

Angelo was a psychopath with a taste of madness and penchant for violence. The man was arrested repeatedly for brutal acts like murder and even sexual assault before he was landed on Death row. Sadly his execution didn't work properly, allowing the maniac to escape the morgue and reach Morioh. He attacked Ryohei as the cop was the reason Angelo got arrested.

Due to the nature of his Stand, none of them could use water that came from anywhere but a bottle in fear of accidentally swallowing the dangerous entity. "And when do you think it's safe for us to go home? Unlike you guys, my dad will go nuts if I ain't back soon. None of us want to deal with an angry father much less my pops, Crash Bandicoot." Taki-Taki wasn't blind to the nervous look on the pompadour prince's face while he took a sip of his tea.

"Until that Stand User is caught." Jotaro didn't foresee the spray of tea hitting his face from the greenette's spit-take. The grown man was growling in his seat while the young woman tried to settle down her coughs. "You nuts?! That is the stupidest thing I ever heard and this is stemming from the fact my partner does insanely stupid stuff on a daily basis!"

Lani-Loli had flown over to the table so fast that the card pile dispersed from the sudden gust, much to both Stand's displeasure. "You said this guy's Stand is pure water right? What do we do when we run out of water? Wait, here's a better one! What happens if it rained? Shelter becomes a deathtrap in two seconds!" Both men's eyes widened upon the mask's words.

After settling down her coughing fit, Taki-Taki let out a soft whisper. "I think this is what that putz wants. Turn ourselves into sitting ducks and swoops in for the kill until it's too late. And it's going to rain in three days." Silence filled the room upon that very knowledge. The convict was planning to turn their stakeout into a trap.

Josuke could only sigh at the difficult hand. Sure, they now know the guy's plan but if they ignore it then finding Angelo would be even harder. It also meant that the psycho will find out Ryohei is still alive and won't hesitate to attack him again. "Then let's turn the tables back. Turn the hunter into the hunted." All eyes were on Taki-Taki in seconds.

She had a goofy smile on her face with her tongue sticking out in an impish manner. There was also the fact that another crystal orb was in her hands. An item that produced the monstrous Quill but unlike that one, this jewel was a shade of toxic green. Lani-Loli, upon seeing what his friend held, grew a mischievous grin of his own. The odd duo clearly had a plan that almost made Jotaro and Josuke feel an ounce of pity. Almost being the keyword.

Rain had finally fallen upon the house once three days had passed by. Taki-Taki had called her father about being home a few days late since some issues had cropped up. Neither Josuke or Jotaro heard the man's voice but what they gathered upon how the greenette talked, 'Crash' was kindly lenient. Although, both males would have to see him once she got back home.

They spent most of their time keeping themselves from getting bored. Board games, reading, or Taki-Taki crafting some… mysterious concoctions and trinkets with whatever she found in the Higashitaka household. Josuke could honestly admit that he didn't know there was a den of possums hiding in his walls but the witch doctor managed to get some possum fur and nail clippings after one landed on Jotaro.

The greenette at the moment was alone in the bathroom, various ingredients that surrounded a lone bucket. Each item was odd in their own right, rat tails, frog eyes, shiitake mushrooms, yew branches, spoiled milk and a bottle of water. Taki-Taki began pouring the ingredients into the vat starting with the rotten dairy.

She was chanting in an unknown language that eerily sounded like a mix of Arabic and Pig Latin. Bucket began to bubble from her words as the color shifted upon every ingredient dropped into the vat. Taki-Taki's water bottle was currently halfway empty through the process and the cap left abandoned to the side.

Unbeknownst to the woman, rain began to patter outside and something opaque began to build up by the window. It looked like water but it held a more bluish hue and moved too much like a living creature to be normal. Then a pair of sinister pink eyes and a grin full of sharp teeth slithered through.

"You sure this isn't a mango?" Josuke currently sat in the front room alongside Lani-Loli who floated over the teenager's shoulder. Standing on the table was a large orange fruit with a yellow bottom similar to a mango but two leaves that hung from a stem. The teenager currently poking at the fruit that had come from Taki-Taki's home.

"Nope! It's a Wumpa Fruit, a pretty common thing to find on the Wumpa Islands. They're much sweeter than mango and the juice is pretty tasty too. Especially when used for a Wumpa Smoothie, those are really good." Being curious upon the mask's words, the pompadour prince took a nicely sized bite of the fruit.

Tangy sweetness was the first thing that hit the highschooler's taste buds then a rich zesty flavor kicked in a matter of seconds. "Holy shit! This is actually pretty good. Yo Jotaro, you have to try this!" The raven poked his head out of the kitchen upon hearing his name. He let out an annoyed sigh before snatching the fruit out of the teen's hand.

"Did someone put salt in your oatmeal today?" Lani-Loli couldn't help but point out at the man's awfully sour mood added by the harsh bite he took out of the poor fruit or the vicious vice grip. "No. None of you are taking this situation seriously and last I checked didn't get an angry rodent trying to claw up your face." He hissed before taking another aggressive bite.

The sound of footsteps had gotten the two humans and mask turning their heads. Approaching them with an eerily quiet and dead stare was Taki-Taki. Her feet moving sluggishly to the point it was close to that of a sleepwalker… or if heavy weights were tied to the woman's legs.

"Taki?" Lani-Loli's voice thick with concern while he spoke his friend's nickname. Her response was to open her mouth slowly with evil pink eyes glaring back at them in the darkness. "Sorry but your little friend's life is now mine!" A vile, raspy and deep male voice coming out of the greenette's mouth, all to the horror of her friends.

"Aqua Necklace?! You bastard, get out of Taki-Taki now Angelo!" Josuke could only burn brighter in rage from the deranged laugh of the psychopathic water Stand. "And get rid of my only hostage?! Hell no! This bitch is the reason why Ryohei Higashitaka is still alive! She has the power to bring back the dead, a ticket to immortality!" The mask could only roll his eyes as if sensing a monologue.

"I've been watching you this whole time. I saw the giant beast she summoned and that mask phasing things through existence. With her as my slave, I'll be invincible! The world will be my toy box and every single person my toys that I can break for eternity! Once you're all dead, I'll break her until she's a mindless bitch who will follow my every…" The monologue was caught short upon her mouth snapping shut.

Yet, it wasn't the lips that closed the space but an eerie green substance reminiscent to goo. "The hell?!" Aqua Necklace tried to dive down the woman's throat only to run into another gooey green wall. Then he heard laughter. Pink eyes turned to see it was Lani-Loli who was responsible. He was cackling mischievously that tears looked ready to fly from how hard his laughter, much to the confusion of his friends.

"Haha! Hehehehe! You really thought it would be so easy! Taki and I faced way worse than your miserable hide. Oh, and that's not Taki-Taki you putz! Drop the charade Toxic!" Jotaro and Josuke immediately jumped back upon who they thought was Taki-Taki began to melt. All color draining away into a puddle of green slightly clear goo.

Crazy Diamond and Star Platinum were quickly summoned when that sludge started to rise up in the process of a transformation. The slime forming three toed misshapen legs, dripping fat arms with chubby fingers, a large yellow green belly that from its almost clear texture and Aqua Necklace being held inside looked more like a prison, and a roundish hippo like head paired with short pig ears, large deformed inhuman teeth and two alien yellow orbs looking back at it's observers.

The beast or Toxic's appearance could be compared to a 8 ft tall ogre or even an Oni, supernatural beings that tend to punish wicked humans. "Meet the Sludge, a creature made of magic infused ooze with a love for eating utter garbage, like your ugly face! I told Toxic here about your little plan involving my best friend."

Almost on cue, the large oozing beast let a loud snarl before smoke began filling in its tummy. "Aaaaaaah! What the hell is that smell?! It's getting hot in here! Don't tell me this is acid?!" The mask only had a vicious smile on his face that solidified the fact. "People like you make me sick. I've read your entire file and I bet it would even make Uka-Uka himself furious to see your deeds!" Aqua Necklace could only shiver in horror at the mask.

It was like Lani-Loli's nervous self had been overshadowed by pure animalistic rage that his eyes were narrowed slits and teeth were now large fangs held in a snarl. A deity ready to smite a sinner with divine punishment. Even Jotaro and Josuke were taken aback by the sudden shift.

"I may be a scaredy cat but I am still a protector. My name is Lani-Loli, the Quantum Mask of Phase! For ruining the lives of many, threatening my friends and having an unsavory plan for my contractor, I mark you Angelo and his Stand Aqua Necklace, guilty of your sins! And boy do I have a nice punishment for your wicked soul."

The mask then faced the two Joestar blooded men. "Josuke. Jotaro. Taki-Taki left earlier to find this cretin's owner hence my friend Toxic here taking her place. I know where she is and I'm going to need your help with something."

On a street a few blocks from Josuke's house sat a large boulder. This rock had laid on this spot for centuries after a stray storm left it stranded on the land that would become Morioh. Tied to this very stone was an unsavory dark haired man in a milkman uniform bound by chains and gagged with a black cloth. Bruises decorating his body no doubt from the slightly bloody fists of the witch doctor.

Taki-Taki turned her head and smiled upon the sight of her friends coming into view. Aqua Necklace was still trapped within the prison that was Toxic's stomach, who seemed mighty pleased at the abomination's struggle. "Damn, you did a number on the asshole." Josuke said much to the greenette's pleasure.

"I aim to please. Now then, Angelo, since you made a living of ruining people's lives I believe your punishment should be providing good luck." Taki-Taki then pulled from behind the rock was the bucket filled with her concoction. It was a bright bubbling pink and had a smell akin to rotten lavender. She didn't resist dumping the nasty vat all over the convict much to his displeasure.

The man was struggling in disgust before his movements slowed to a crawl as if his whole body was paralyzed except for his mouth and eyes. Taki then yanked the gag from Angelo's lips allowing the man to speak. "You...crazy bitch…! What have you done?" His raspy dry voice almost sounded like a dying cat from how quiet it was.

"A simple potion made to turn you into an eternal good luck charm for all the folks in Morioh! Bet you now wished that your original execution didn't fail. Josuke, this last part is all up to you. Today you will have to make a choice on how this man goes out." Taki-Taki's eyes narrowed as they glowed inhumanly under the dark cloudy sky.

"Ryohei Higashitaka was the one who put this man in jail and stopped his rampage. In vengeance, this scum tried to rob a righteous soul of his life. As Ryohei's grandson, will you fulfill his task and put an end to the man that escaped the grim reaper's blade? If not, then I will perform the deed with Lani-Loli. What do you say?"

The pompadour prince was a bit off guard by the witch doctor's words. Why would she ask him if he wanted to be the one that dealt Angelo's punishment? "Josuke?! Are you seriously going to let her kill me? Sure I tried to kill your grandfather but if you go along with this bitch's plan then you'll be a killer just like me!"

None of them were blind to the man's false pleas knowing it was a trick to let him go. A rat that will only wreak havoc if given a shred of mercy. Angelo's rants were caught off by a fist breaking both his hand and a chunk of the rock. The shocking thing was that the stone merged and encased itself around the appendage much to the psycho's horror.

"Aaah! My hand!! What are you doing?" Josuke merely ignored the man's painful cries. "You really think that we're going to let you go after all you've done. This town used to be a peaceful place before you came and played with people's lives! So for the rest of your days, you're going to pay back every family that you destroyed! Taki-Taki." The greenette smiled knowing what the young man wanted.

"Let's do this Lani-Loli! Armor up!" The cyan mask flew around Taki-Taki with trails of aqua wispy trails that followed from behind. The mask situated himself onto her back while the ghostly ribbons wrapped themselves around her body. Each wispy streak solidified to form a black jumpsuit of sorts which was highlighted by glowing aqua blue chunks of armor reminiscent of Lani-Loli's crown.

Taki-Taki's eyes were now completely glowing blue while velvet sky blue energy followed through the tattoos on her skin and turned her hair into luminous bluish mist. The sudden change to the witch doctor had the restrained Angelo sweating in terror and nearly pissing himself when Josuke's Crazy Diamond materialized.

"Dorarararararara!!!!" The armored spirit let out a battle cry as both him and the armored greenette let loose a barrage of vicious punches. Each strike was as destructive and fast as machine gun rounds, blowing off huge chunks of the stone and merging to the man trapped in the dead center. Neither of them stopping their assault until every piece of stone had been reassembled.

With one last brutal punch, the stone fragments had fully merged Angelo turning the once human male into a deformed boulder. This new shape of the large stone was a malformed face with wide eyes held in different angles, a large flat nose at the bottom similar to a maui and stress lines just like the person it used to be.

Aqua Necklace, who was still trapped in Toxic's belly, quickly melted away in seconds. No doubt the Stand could no longer survive without the life force of its user, thus following its master into hell. Jotaro could only grimace behind the guard of his cap.

[Morioh Landmark 1: Angelo's Rock. No one knows where this mysterious stone appeared from or why. Despite its unnerving appearance, this landmark is a hotspot for couples both old and new.]

'These three are bat shit crazy and have the strength to back it up. Luckily Josuke has a good head on shoulders but…' The raven's eyes drifted to Taki-Taki, her sludge summon and most importantly Lani-Loli still hanging onto her back. She was conversing with Josuke who took the time to look at her changed form and the living sludge Toxic in rapt curiosity.

'Taki-Taki isn't a Stand User but she's just as dangerous as one. Those beasts, Quill and Toxic, whatever they are no doubt has a connection to her origins. And then there's Lani-Loli. I don't exactly know what a Quantum Mask is but I have a feeling he isn't the only one. Just who are you?'

And that is it! This ended being super long since the story revolves around two whole episodes instead of one. It does take place in the beginning of Part 4 and I wanted to stick as close to canon involving them.

Yes, Taki-Taki can call upon Titans, the enemies normally found in the Crash of the Titan series. Unlike a large chunk of people, I actually like the Titan games. They were the first Crash games I played and 100%. I did play Crash The Huge Adventure for the gameboy advance but it got destroyed in the wash sadly before I got the last crystal.

Any version of Crash of the Titans is good but I suggest playing the DS version of Mind Over Mutant considering the console version is more of an annoying chore with tons of backtracking.

My favorite Titans are Spike and Rhinoroller. I especially love the boss version of Spike from the DS Mind Over Mutant but I haven't found the concept art of it yet.

Just like a witch doctor, Taki-Taki does craft all sorts of potions and charms. The Aku-Aku charm acts like a second chance. If someone who has the charm experiences death, the charm will revive them. Deaths done through murder are a bit different.

The charm will hold onto their soul until its safe to revive the holder. Any extensive damage is done and the soul is returned back to the body once repairs are complete. After use, the charm will disintegrate or dull out depending on how much damage was caused.

The Phase Armor given by Lani-Loli is much different for Taki-Taki when she uses it. Reason for it is that she's contracted to him thus the power and magic he provides is much stronger than someone who doesn't have a contract.

Even if Lani-Loli is quite a skittish character,that doesn't mean he won't get serious when needed. Angelo did a lot of horrible stuff that I bet even Uka-Uka wouldn't do. Uka-Uka may be evil but he has standards.

I wanted to try a different writing style for this considering Part 4 is more of a murder mystery. So I wanted to introduce particular areas, new landmarks and important information in a traversing to the next scene.

Until next time folks! Tell the world that your unbreakable!

[savysavannah]

Savannah Finds a Baby:

The girls and I jumped up and down in our skimpy swimsuits, a little sudsy from the carwash. We'd spent the day doing our sororities charity event for the semester, a car wash where all the profits go to a women's shelter. My best friend Eimear and I had found the shelter and the president Elle had picked the event. In all honesty, it was a lot more work than I'd thought it'd been. The movies made it look so sexy and easy to do. But by now I was beat. My boyfriend Chad and I were supposed to go out to dinner then out to a party but I really just wanted a nap. 

Pulling out my phone I dialed his number and waited. It went straight to voice mail. 

With a small sigh I tapped my flip flop on the wet parking lot and waited for the beep, 

"Hey babes, don't think I'm gonna make it tonight. I'm just really worn from the car wash. You should still go and have fun at the party though! Loves ya."

Sighing again I walked to the sorority house where a few of the girls were still hanging out in the entryway ready to go. 

"Savy, thought you were going out with your boo tonight?" Marissa asked. 

"I'm surprised you girls are going out. After all that cleaning I'm so tired. Might sleep all day tomorrow too to make up for it." I joked. 

"Oh well, if you're serious leave your paper for Professor Hidgens on your desk. I'll grab it tomorrow on my way out." Eimear offered, she was my roommate so it's not like she'd bother me getting up.

My face paled. "Fuck." 

"You forgot about it didn't you." She asked and raised an eyebrow. 

"Absolutely did." I was already panicking. What were we studying again? Something about the founding of Illea? The fall of America? Where did the chinese come into play again???? 

"Don't worry. It's pretty fact based instead of opinion. Borrow my laptop, my essays on the desktop just change it up a bit." Eimear offered and gave me a kiss on the cheek as she and Marissa headed out past me. 

"Thank you!" I yelled back at her before dashing up to our room to get her laptop. I'd used it a few times to edit her papers or in cases like this, so I already knew the password. 

Sitting in bed I began to read through her essay, now on my laptop, but felt my eyes drifting closed. 

"Fuck." I sighed and got up. After stretching I realized this was gonna take more than just a bit of movement. Stuck my laptop and charger in a tote, slipped on some pants over my bikini bottoms and some sandals then was on the move to starbucks. 

The sun set as I typed away making edits here and there and sipping on my venti mocha coffee with three shots of esspresso. It wasn't till I felt a small hand on my pant leg that I snapped out of my work. 

I looked down to see a small child, I mean I think small? I don't really know children? Maybe three or four. Staring up at me from under the starbucks table. 

Panicking I looked around but I didn't really see any adult looking figures around. The child began to cry on my leg wailing, I got some looks like I was some slut at the starbucks who got knocked up at 19 and now had a wailing toddler. I guess I wasn't really wearing a full shirt. Quickly I stuffed my bag to leave. 

But as I stood I realized I couldn't just leave the toddler at starbucks. Don't I have some kind of ethical duty here?

I picked up the child, holding it at arm length to avoid it touching my face. Who knows where those hands have been. Probably covered in slobber. 

Carrying the child to the starbucks counter I held it out. "I found this." 

I presented the child to the minimum wage teenage worker. He stared at me puzzled for a moment. Then looked around, 

"Did you see her with anyone?" He asked. 

"Uh, I don't think so? It just appeared?" 

He kinda snorted, "kids don't really 'just appear. It had to get in here somehow with someone?" He suggested. 

"Look, I was busy, suddenly there was a kid at my feet that's all I know." I held the kid out to the worker again hoping he'd take it off my hands and put it somewhere else. 

He seemed offended. "I don't know what to do with it?" 

Suddenly it looked as if a manager was coming. "What's going on?" 

"Some lady found a kid." He shrugged. 

"Found how? Like adopted?"

"No, I mean I found a kid in your store. It just walked up to me or toddled or something and started crying. Isn't mine." 

The manager thought for a moment. "And you didn't see a parent with her?" 

"If I saw a parent I wouldn't be holding it." 

Again the manager pondered. "We'll call the non emergency police and file a report." The manager said. 

I hung around with the baby, the manager, and the employee as we waited. The store had closed so it was quiet and someone had to watch the baby while the workers closed. So I was left with it- I mean her, sitting on the counter waiting. 

"Sooo, you like coffee?" I asked and we sat in silence. 

"You probably shouldn't have coffee, stunts your growth." I mumbled and looked up at the fans in the shop. Suddenly a woman rushed up to the shop door and banged on it. I walked over and she pointed to the baby on the counter. 

"Hey! Either the moms here or a child trafficker!" I yelled back, hopefully to the manager. 

"Let her in and wait for the police!" He yelled back. 

What was I somehow his employee now too? I turned the lock and let her in. She rushed over to the baby and hugged her tightly. "Oh thank god!" She yelled. 

"How do you lose a baby?" I asked and walked over to the mom and baby to get my tote bag. 

She glared down at me. "Don't you speak to me like that! You have no idea the kind of day I've had! You're lucky I'm feeling generous or I'd have you reported for kidnapping!" She yelled. The manager rushed out to deal with her as the police came up. 

"Well, that seems like my queue." I mumbled and tried my best to leave the Karen and her baby to the police and the manager. Gave the baby a little nod goodbye. She smiled, figured that was confirmation of her approval and headed back to the sorority house. Paper complete. 

[omgbigfluffwriting]

Twice In A Lifetime Prologue: Day 0

I was excited at the information Dawson had given me. Since Penelope Garcia was leaving the BAU to start afresh, they needed a new technical analyst and since my skills nearly matched Garcia’s, Emily had asked for me to be transferred. Not only would I'd be helping Emily Prentiss’s team, I also would be helping Jack Garrett’s team.

The brass had investigated Barnes’s prior decision to close down the IRT and found her decision very unacceptable, contacting the former members of the IRT with offers of team reinstatement. Everyone except Matt Simmons accepted.

Matt felt his talents were better utilized by the BAU and so Jack was looking for his replacement while Emily had found Garcia's replacement in me.

It was kind of funny bumping into Garcia as she was leaving. “You’re our new technical analyst?” She squeaked. I nodded. “Then I don’t have to worry about my family, since they’ll be in good hands. Especially 187.”

“Who’s 187?” I asked, confused over Garcia’s nicknames. Garcia laughed.

"By 187, I mean our resident genius, Dr. Spencer Reid.” Garcia explained. “Anyway, good luck!” Garcia hurried away, leaving me to frown. I shook my head and headed to Garcia’s old office to set up. I barely had time to set up my new office the way I liked it when someone cleared their throat.

“Sorry.” Emily Prentiss said. “When you’re ready, please come to the conference room. Everyone’s waiting to meet you.”

“In that case, I’m ready to come now.” I informed Prentiss and fell into step beside the unit chief.

“I think you already know one of my agents, Dr. Spencer Reid?” Emily said. I nodded. Spencer Reid had been my childhood sweetheart and currently was my boyfriend.

“We’ve known each other since practically the cradle.” I replied.

“Then that explains why Garcia kept teasing him yesterday at her farewell party.” Prentiss said dryly. “About you, apparently.” I blushed as Prentiss led me into the conference room. “This is our new technical analyst, Gabriella Rosenthal.”

Everyone said ‘hi’ to me at once. I wondered if Reid would say anything about our relationship. It was unlikely, however.

“We have a case.” Emily started, motioning to me to sit by Spencer. “Remember the marionette case?” Spencer made a clearing of his throat. “No, we don’t need a by-play of the case, Reid. I do not want our new technical analyst scared off.” I smiled at that. “Instead of marionettes, this unsub has been kidnapping law enforcement officials and somehow turning them into babies.”

“What the fudge?” Alvez suddenly said. Though it was appropriate for work, Emily shot him a reproving glance.

“Since this is a missing persons/child report, I have decided to take the case and have our new technical analyst go with us.” I looked up in shock. “Sorry to have you travel with us on your first day, but it can’t be helped.” the unit chief added.

“No, it’s okay.” I said.

—

On the plane, I sat next to Spencer. “I saw you blush as you came in.” My boyfriend told me without taking his eyes off the file in front of him.

“Prentiss mentioned Garcia teasing you last night.” I remarked. “About me.” My boyfriend looked up from the file he held.

“It wasn’t specifically about you. She just said 'I wonder if the new analyst is unattached. Perhaps you could go out with her.’ I told her it was unlikely since a. Inter-team relationships are frowned upon and b. I already had a girlfriend.” I laughed.

“It sounds like you weren’t expecting me to be the new analyst.” I said.

“I wasn’t prepared, no.” My boyfriend mildly answered. “I did make Emily aware of our relationship before we got on the jet.”

“And?” I started.

“Keep it professional during work hours.” Emily stated as she went past. “Reid deserves someone special after the hell he went through at Millburn.”

“Got it loud and clear, Chief. No display of affection until after hours.” I said. Emily nodded.

“And there’s no fraternization policy. The brass threatened me with instituting it but nothing ever came of it.” Rossi added. “Just be professional.”

–

Prentiss assigned Spencer and I the task of getting the local PD up to speed. This apparently meant helping Reid as he was working on victimology. “This feels like a bad Alfred Hitchcock movie.” I mumbled as she set up the cork board.

“Actually, it’s more like a bad Stephen King novel.” Her boyfriend commented as he worked on geography. “The marionette case was more of a bad Alfred Hitchcock movie.” I rolled my eyes at him. “Oh, that was sarcasm?” He muttered. I nodded. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” I said. “Emily didn’t seem surprised that we were together.”

“Emily doesn’t miss much, that’s why Hotch, our previous unit chief got her promoted before he left. Rossi didn’t want the position because of paperwork.” Spencer recalled. I smiled at that.

“Agent Rosenthal, Prentiss said she wanted to see you.” A police officer said to me. Spencer looked suspicious for a few minutes but waved a hand, showing me that he could obviously finish the rest.

“I’ve got the rest Gabby.” He murmured reassuringly. I gave him a quick nod and followed the police officer reluctantly outside.

—

“I don’t see Prentiss out…” I didn’t finish my sentence because the man pressed a cloth soaked in… oh God, this was the unsub. He was pressing a cloth soaked in chloroform to my nose. I passed out immediately.

When I awoke later, I saw that I was strapped to a table while my captor was intently staring at an ultrasound screen. “What are you going to do, kill me?” I asked, not seeing the umbilical cords on the screen because of my anger.

“Oh no, Rosenthal.” The unsub said dryly as he chuckled. “You’re perfect.” The cadence of his voice confused me. It sounded exactly like my boyfriend’s when they were on the clock.

“Spencer, you’ve gone insane. You’ve never once hinted to me that you were into bondage.” I chided softly.

“That’s because I’m not Spencer.” The unsub said and turned around to show me an identical form to my boyfriend.

“What do you want me for?” I squeaked.

“You’re the first pregnant law enforcement official that I’ve encountered.” he admitted. Then he changed the subject. “You also seem to be pretty close with Agent Reid.”

“It’s Doctor Reid, asshole.” I said.

“Tsk tsk…language, Agent…. but what is he exactly to you?”

“My boyfriend.” I admitted. The unsub nodded thoughtfully. “He will find me!” The unsub then shook his head.

“No, he won’t. My brother’s babies will be long gone and you’ll be in love with me and carrying mine by the time he finds you.”

“I’m pregnant?” I asked in shock. At this, the unsub nodded. “I can’t believe it. Spencer and I had just decided to try for one. Don’t underestimate Spencer or the rest of the department.” I snarled. The unsub laughed. “Why are you doing this?”

“Quite simple really, he got to stay with our parents while Lesley and I were adopted. Here, swallow this.” He says as he picks up a tiny gray pill.

“Wait, you three are triplets?! I am no….” he shoved it into my mouth and made me swallow.

“I’ll be back.” He said as he put my now unconscious body in the crib, smiling in satisfaction as my body became smaller to fit inside the crib. “Forgot to stock up on food for your present stages.”

–

I kept watching the clock. Prentiss sure was laying into Gabby, which wasn’t like our unit chief. When Prentiss came in laughing with Rossi, Alvez and Simmons, she said after biting off her laughter, “Where’s Gabby, isn’t she supposed to be assisting you?”

“I don’t know. I thought you were chewing her out.” I said. Prentiss shook her head. She looked as guilty and worried as I felt about our technical analyst.

“That takes a lot of balls to kidnap a federal agent.” Alvez stated. Rossi nodded as he looked at me, I had been kidnapped once before.

“He didn’t give her enough time to take her purse which clearly has her phone for us to track.” Rossi observed. I was trying to hold back tears because I was afraid that the same thing would happen to Gabby that happened to Maeve.

“Actually,” Simmons grinned, “we can still track her. Alvez and I gave her a tracking necklace before she left.” I made a disapproving noise at the back of my throat. “Reid, she fits the victimology like a glove.”

“Actually, she’s the target.” Agent Garrett said, entering the precinct with Lesley. Simmons raised an eyebrow.

“Everyone, I asked him to help with this because we share a technical analyst. Everyone nodded as Emily turned to Garrett. “Jack, what do you mean by ‘she’s the target’?”  Jack nodded to Lesley.

“I’d like to introduce to you Lesley Smith-Juniment. Spencer and he are twins.” My eyes widened in shock.

“I lived in Oregon for a while and got to know Gabby very well as a teenager.”  Lesley said after clearing his throat. “Perhaps not as well as my twin but well enough.  During that time, she had a stalker. Police never found out who it was but I’ve always believed that our unsub and Gabby’s stalker are the same.”

“Thank you, Lesley. I swear to both you and Spencer, we will find her.” Lesley nodded as his brow furrowed in worry.

–

The tracking device led them to the unsub’s house where they found her clothes torn and the wrecked necklace lay atop the heap. “Well there goes my theory.” Alvez mumbled as the rest of the agents searched the unsub’s house.

All the rooms were quickly declared with a shout of “Clear!” except one. This was the room I had chosen to search. It was empty save for an ultrasound monitor, an examination table and a crib with a baby in it. Wide blue eyes stared at me.

“Clear!” I yelled, holstering my gun. The baby looked fearfully at the door and then tried to raise her chubby arms to me. I picked her up, surprised at the adult awareness in her eyes as she laid her head on my chest and started crying. When I tried handing her to JJ so I could grab the unsub’s diary, the baby gave an ear-splitting wail.

“Shh. It’s okay sweetheart.” I murmured to the baby, then asked JJ to put the unsub’s journal into an evidence bag for me. While looking the baby over, I remembered that Gabby’s birthmark was pear-shaped and the baby had the exact same birthmark on her inner thigh which was where Gabby’s was located. “I found Gabby, JJ!” I said excitedly.

“And?” JJ asked. I showed her the pear shaped birthmark on the baby’s inner thigh. “Oh my God! That totally explains why she’s clinging to you for dear life!” JJ remarked to me as I powdered and diapered the terrified infant. Then her eyes narrowed. “Wait, how did you know about her…”

“Okay, Simmons and I found everything that we’ll need to care for her!” Alvez said, holding up a diaper bag stuffed with diapers, wipes and other baby paraphernalia. Simmons held a stack of boxes containing stuff she’d need until she turned 22 years old.

“Let’s get her out of here.” Spencer said. They all nodded and left quickly.

—

“We found her.” JJ told Prentiss before I came in with the car seat holding Gabby. “Or rather Spence found her.”

“Great, is she okay?” Prentiss asked in relief.

“Um, she won’t be working for quite some time.” Alvez said, looking quite worried about their Technical Analyst.

“Hospitalization?” Prentiss asked, alarmed.

“No. Worse than that. She’s our only lead on the unsub right now and she can’t talk.” Rossi replied. “When we catch this son of a bitch, I want to interrogate them.”

“Rossi, please watch your mouth. The last thing I need is for those words or that sentence to come out of a three year old’s mouth.” I said wearily as I joined them in the police station, holding the handle to the car seat tightly.

Prentiss looked at the fussy baby. “Reid, you’re not going to tell us that Agent Rosenthal is that baby, are you?” She said.

“Emily, you’ve seen my childhood album. That is Gabriella Rosenthal at birth.” I protested.

Prentiss blinked and reached for the fussy baby. “I wouldn’t do that, Emily.” Rossi warned. “She is super attached to Reid.” Sure enough, the baby screamed again.  I picked her up and the baby once again calmed down.

“Why would she be so attached to Reid?” Emily asked.

I looked down at the baby sucking her thumb. “Because I was there during her childhood and within the last 2 years 6 months and 25 days, we’ve been dating as I told you before we got on the jet, Emily.”

The whole team blinked in surprise. “Couldn’t she go back to her parents or grandparents?” Tara asked.

“No, they’re all dead.” I said. “I will take care of her. I found the notes from the unsub. It depends on how old the person is. I’m 39, she’s 37. It’ll take over a month for her to get back up to her proper age.”

“Good thing you’ve never taken a voluntary vacation until now.” Emily deadpanned before smirking. “You’re still needing to fill out the necessary paperwork but I will approve it.”

“Thanks, Emily.” I said as Lesley approached her cautiously. “Don’t be surprised if she screams her head off, Smith-Juniment.” I warned Lesley but strangely enough, Gabby happily allowed Lesley to pick her up.

“That might be useful if the IRT stay home and we’re out on a case.” Emily pointed out.

“Anytime you need Lesley, you can borrow him, Reid, provided I know when.” Jack agreed.

—

After filling out the paperwork, Gabby was sleeping in her car seat as I drove home. Luckily, she stayed asleep.

I recalled a conversation with her a few days ago when she told me she wanted kids with me. I'd been so taken aback by the declaration that I hadn’t answered her.

'If we make it through the 37 days, I’ll give her an answer…’ I thought as I drove. Gabby woke up just as I got her home and dressed for bed.

Thankfully, Rossi had come and set up Gabby’s room with the things that she would need as a baby. He and Emily were the only ones who had a key to my apartment besides Gabby. Gabby fussed and I prepared a bottle of formula.

“You’re going to be so embarrassed over this that I have to wonder if our relationship will survive.” I murmured to Gabby. Gabby, for her part, blinked sleepily at me, her boyfriend turned father figure. I gently laid her in her crib and turned off the lights.

–

I came home expecting to hear Gabby’s furious wails but heard nothing. I hurried inside the house and to the room where I’d been keeping Gabby. I threw open the door to see the portable crib gone. I gritted my teeth. “Agent Reid, you’re messing with the wrong man!” I snarled. My partner came in. “She’s gone!”

“Hm, time for your plan B, boss?” He asked. Plan B was a long shot, but I knew that as long as Agent Reid lived, I’d never get my hands on Gabby again. Plan B meant that Gabby was lost to me. Well, at least her ova were still here unless the FBI took them as evidence… I checked my cryogenic freezer.

Relief coursed through me when I saw the seven vials of ova I’d extracted. Plan B could go on, I’d just carry the baby myself! I had the biological equipment to do so.